


Harry Potter and the Attack from the Ministry

by AmeliaDarkholme



Series: Harry Potter and the Godfathers [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26335432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmeliaDarkholme/pseuds/AmeliaDarkholme
Summary: Harry was recovering from the trauma of finally meeting the monster who'd killed his parents. It was surprisingly not as difficult as he thought it would. He just wasn't expecting the animosity the Ministry had against his family.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy & Theodore Nott & Blaise Zabini, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood, Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Remus Lupin & Harry Potter, Remus Lupin/Dorcas Meadowes, Sirius Black & Harry Potter, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Marlene McKinnon
Series: Harry Potter and the Godfathers [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1336825
Comments: 42
Kudos: 23





	1. The Beginning

Oliver sat quietly at the foot of his bed, uncaring about his state of undress. Turning his head slightly to look at his… _lover,_ from over his shoulder, his heart ached at the sight of Percy sleeping peacefully, despite the horrible thing that had just happened to him. It was only a few days ago when Percy had come barging into Oliver’s flat late in the evening, carrying his trunk and with barely repressed tears in his eyes. The first thing Oliver noticed, other than his trunk, was the stench of alcohol coming off of the ginger. He was about to ask the former Head Boy what had happened, when the drunk ginger smashed his lips onto Oliver’s, pushing his way inside the flat roughly and almost leaving his trunk outside in his haste and desperation. The rest of the evening was a blur to him, and even though Percy seemed to feel much better before he passed out, Oliver kind of regretted the fact that their first time had had to be so rushed.

The former Keeper only knew a little from the few words he managed to get from Percy between kisses, but it was enough for him to figure out what had happened. It seemed that the whole Weasley clan wasn’t too fond of Percy’s promotion. His parents, especially Mr Weasley, even said that the only reason they’d promoted Percy was because of the recent feud the Ministry had had with Dumbledore and the Black brothers; and by having Percy on their side, they could use him to get the information they wanted from Dumbledore and the Blacks. Obviously, Percy was offended, and seeing that the Weasleys were famous for their temper, it was easy to see that the normally stoic ginger had just snapped. Oliver didn’t know the details, but from what Percy had insinuated, he might have said a few harsh words to his parents in his rage. But he only left his house because his older brothers, whom he really looked up, didn’t defend him to his parents, and instead took their side.

“They have always belittled me. Since the day I was born, I _never_ mattered to them,” Percy whispered before he fell asleep, absentmindedly playing with Oliver’s hair. “And I couldn’t take it anymore. I _had_ to leave. I couldn’t even _look_ at them without getting absolutely mad.”

Oliver could only nod his head because deep down, he agreed with Percy’s family. Everyone knew about Fudge’s newly estranged relationship with Dumbledore and the Black brothers. Then there was also the fact that after Percy’s failure to realise that his boss, the late Crouch Senior, was being held captive by Voldemort, it would have been impossible for him to get a promotion. But Oliver kept it to himself as he hugged Percy tightly, whispering softly in the ginger’s ear that he _promised_ he would never turn his back on him, no matter what happened.

“I promise you, Perce, when the whole world has turned its back on you, you’ll find me to be the only one who’s still facing you, with a big smile on my face,” Oliver said.

Percy let go, with another wave of tears that put him to sleep; all that crying had rendered him exhausted.

That had been a few days ago. Percy had stayed with him for almost week, refusing to answer the Patronuses his parents and older brothers sent him. Glancing up at the clock on the wall across from their shared bed, Oliver was brought back to the present when he saw that it was already three in the morning. He then realised that he would have to go and get ready for bed soon because he had an early practice. But Oliver found that he couldn’t sleep. Percy’s fight with his parents had brought back the memories of _his_ fight with his own parents. There was a reason why Oliver had moved all the way from his parents’ home in Dundee to the flat in London that he’d bought on the spot, spending almost all of his savings. Being a half-blood, with parents who had been raised as devout Roman Catholics, Oliver knew that his parents wouldn’t be too accepting of his new relationship with Oliver. He didn’t really plan on telling them at first, thinking that he should discuss it with Percy and that he was just waiting for the right time. But his mother had been exceptionally annoying that day, nagging him about asking out a girl that she thought would be perfect for him. Oliver didn’t even realise what he’d done until it was too late.

_(“Get out, son. Leave_ my _house before I do something that we all will regret.”)_

Oliver kept it a secret from Percy, because he knew the ginger was sort of hoping for Oliver’s parents to be accepting of him. If he found out how his parents had practically disowned Oliver, there was no doubt that Percy would feel guilty about it, and probably would even think that his own parents would disagree with his relationship with Oliver as well. But now that he wasn’t talking to anyone in his family, Oliver knew that it would take years until they would have to come out to the Weasleys. The Keeper only wished it wouldn’t take so long. He liked the Weasleys. They always welcomed him whenever he came over. He had long considered them family. However, it seemed that he would have to wait for Percy to make things right with his family.

He felt the bed shift under him, and he turned his head to find Percy already awake. He blinked his eyes a couple of times, and his blue eyes seemed like they were glowing. “Hey,” the ginger greeted him softly, reaching to the side for his horn-rimmed glasses.

“Hey,” Oliver replied. “Thirsty?”

Percy closed his eyes, heaving deeply. “My head’s pounding a bit from all the work I had to do yesterday, but I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“All right. If you want me to, I can get you some potion to help you with the headache.”

“No.” The ginger opened his eyes, and patted the spot beside him softly. “Just… lay with me here.”

“Okay,” Oliver said, crawling back towards Percy and sliding in under the covers.

Percy automatically opened his arms, pulling Oliver tightly into them. The Keeper sighed in contentment as he buried his face in the crook of Percy’s neck. For a long time, the two of them just lay there in silence, wrapped in each other’s arms. Even thought they’d slept together in his room the last time Percy was in his flat, they had never done _anything_. Oliver knew that Percy was still a little uncomfortable about his sexuality, even to himself. That was why they never did anything, and Oliver was perfectly fine with that. He didn’t mind waiting until Percy felt like they were ready. The fact that Percy was with him, _finally,_ was already a gift to him. Besides, Oliver was a firm believer that love didn’t need to be proven by sexual activities. That evening when Percy had stumbled into his flat and kissed him, his desire was so overwhelming to Oliver. And even though he knew that it was fueled by the alcohol in the ginger’s system, it took Oliver off his guard a bit. But he could never say no to Percy. So, when he felt Percy’s fingers urgently begin to pull on his shirt, the Keeper started to walk back toward his bedroom as he too pulled on Percy’s shirt, their kiss never breaking.

_(Loud moans filled the room, accompanied by the sounds of bare flesh slapping against each other. He felt his face wet with tears as he gripped the sheets with one hand, the other hand tugging on red strands of hair. It took him a while though, as he relished the feeling of lips raining kisses on his jawline, to realise that the tears on his face weren’t his.)_

“Why didn’t you tell me that your parents had disowned you?” Percy said in a small voice, causing Oliver to freeze in shock.

“How did you find out about that?” Oliver asked in return, his voice equally small.

Percy clenched his jaw and turned his head toward the window. “After I left the Burrow, I went immediately to your house. I thought after being here in London for so long, you’d come to visit your parents during the holidays. Your mother opened the door for me. Wouldn’t look me in the eye, even though she was still polite enough to offer me a drink. I knew right away that something was wrong. I was just asking her about you, when your father suddenly came into the room, saying that he’d kicked you out and that both you and I were no longer welcome in his home. That was why I drank. It broke my heart that now the two of us don’t even have anyone to call family anymore. So I came to the first pub I could find and drank myself stupid. Nearly got myself Splinched when I Apparated here.”

Sighing heavily, Oliver said, “You shouldn’t have done that. If anything had happened to you, did you ever think what that would do to me? I’d be miserable.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Nuzzling his nose in Oliver’s hair, Percy continued. “But it really pains me to think that we have no one else. Just the two of us in this mean, cruel world.”

Oliver looked up so he was looking right into Percy’s blue eyes. “You know what, Perce? I don’t really care that we have no one else but each other. That’s okay with me. _You_ are the only family I need.”

When Percy rolled his eyes, Oliver knew that the ginger was secretly pleased. He saw the way Percy bit his lip, an obvious sign that he was trying to stop himself from grinning. “You are _so_ corny. You might want to change profession from an athlete to a poet, Wood.”

The Keeper laughed. He glanced at the clock across from him and found that it was already four. His practise began at six. Gently pushing Percy off him, he said, “I have to go for practice. The coach is going to have my arse if I’m late.”

“Tell him _I’ve_ had your arse last night,” Percy drawled flatly as he flashed Oliver a cocky grin. Oliver couldn’t help himself as his jaw dropped.

“Percy Weasley, did you just make a _joke?_ ” Oliver said, laughing. The ginger merely shrugged as he too got off the bed.

“Hey, I grew up with Fred and George. Technically, humour runs in the family. I just prefer to be more reserved about it.”

“Right. Sure. Making crude, sexual jokes is _totally_ reserved. Of course.”

“Whatever, Wood,” Percy said, still grinning.

The two of them had their breakfast almost an hour later. Because it was an emergency practice on a Saturday, Percy decided to tag along because he had nothing else to do. Oliver was incredibly pleased about it, always happy to have Percy close to him. They arrived at Puddlemere United’s stadium just a half an hour before six, but everyone was already there. Percy quietly went to sit in the stands, giving Oliver a quick nod before he buried his nose in the book he’d brought with him. Oliver quickly went to change into his uniform, making sure that he didn’t spend too much time doing so, lest his coach would yell at him for being slow. He stood with the rest of the players once he’d returned to the pitch, listening with rapt attention to the coach’s explanation. Even though he was only the reserve Keeper for the team, Wood was having so much fun. He still worked really hard to get noticed by the coach though, knowing that the only reason he wasn’t playing permanently was because the Keeper who was his senior was still in his prime and had a contract for the next five years.

The practice had gone on for a little over three hours when the coach told them to stop. Oliver was incredibly pleased with himself because he was sure he’d played really well, even though his bones were now aching. It must have paid off though, because just before he went to take a shower, the coach told him that for their next match he wanted Oliver to play for the first thirty minutes. It was definitely an upgrade from having to sit by the bench unless the actual Keeper was injured. There was a smile on his face whilst he had his shower, and he even skipped a bit, like a little girl, when he was making his way toward Percy. He was stopped by a tap on his shoulder though, and when he turned to see who it was, he saw that it was none other than Regulus Black himself. Oliver was immediately reminded of Percy’s promotion, and how everyone suspected that the ambitious ginger had only got it because he had connections to the Black family.

“Mr Black,” Oliver said politely, earning a smile from the Head of the Sacreds. He’d met the man two times already, the first time when he and Percy had found a tortured Draco Malfoy in their seventh year, and the second time when the Malfoys took him along to the Quidditch World Cup.

“Hi, Oliver,” the man said. “And please, call me Regulus. Like my brother, I don’t really like formalities. I find them annoying.”

“I’m sorry,” Oliver quickly added. Regulus shrugged, waving his apology aside with a smile.

“It’s okay… By the way, do you know where can I find your friend Percy Weasley? He had a fight with his parents, and he ran off a week ago. Harry told me you two are very close. I figured you’d know where he might me. His family is really worried about him.”

Oliver shifted his weight on his feet awkwardly, not knowing what he should do. He had no doubt that Regulus _knew_ that Percy was staying with him. So lying to him would be futile. But there was no way he was going to tell him, and just betray Percy. He had just decided that he was going to lie to Regulus when he felt someone standing behind him, at the same time that Regulus’ eyes turned toward the person behind him. It was the ginger in question himself. Oliver was expecting Percy to be angry at the fact that Regulus had come after him because his parents had told him to. He even expected Percy to bail on him, just directly Apparate off while Oliver tried his best to stop Regulus from coming after him. Instead, he found Percy staring at Regulus with wide eyes, looking like he was about to freak out.

“Percy,” Regulus greeted, still with a smile on his face. “So good to see you, mate. Your parents—“

“What are you doing here?” Percy said almost harshly, catching both Oliver and Regulus off guard. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“ _I beg your pardon?_ ” Regulus said, his eyebrows raised, clearly offended.

But Percy ignored him. Looking around, he continued talking as if he hadn’t just offended one of the most powerful wizards in Britain. “Where’s your brother? Where’s Auror Black?”

“Wherever he is, it’s none of your business, _buddy._ You, on the other hand, need to—“

“ _You_ have to go back home,” Percy said urgently. “You have to go back to the Black Manor. Tell your brother to come home too. It’s not safe for either of you to leave home.”

“Perce, what are you talking about?” Oliver asked, frowning. He was even more baffled when Percy took his wand out of his pocket, ready to Apparate.

“I don’t have time to explain,” the ginger said quickly. “Oliver, I want you to take Mr Black here back home. Make sure all of his family members are at the Manor. I’ll go look for his brother.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Regulus said, pulling on Percy’s hand just before the younger wizard was about to Apparate. “What’s happening, Percy? And _don’t_ lie to me.”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me where Auror Black is.”

“He’s taking Harry and my wife to see Harry’s Muggle relatives. Why?”

“You two are in danger. There, I told you. Now give me the address of the Muggles. I’ll go—“

Oliver didn’t immediately register the loud yell that Regulus let out, until he suddenly started coughing up blood right into Percy’s face before dropping unceromoniously onto the ground, grasping the spot on his chest where his heart was. Cursing under his breath, Oliver quickly helped Percy to pull Regulus onto his feet, even though he was completely _terrified_. The thought that Percy had _known_ something bad was going to happen to Regulus was seriously bothering him. It didn’t take him long to figure out that the only reason Percy knew about it was because of his newly promoted position as Junior Assistant to Fudge himself.

“Oliver, take him to the Manor,” Percy repeated once more. “I’ll go get his brother… Mr Black? Er, Regulus? Can you tell me where your brother might be?”

The seconds Regulus took to gather his strength felt like hours to Oliver, and definitely to Percy too. With his voice all raspy, the Head of the Sacreds whispered, “P- Privet Driver, number four… Sur…”

“Regulus? Regulus?” Percy asked, shaking the man urgently. He quickly pressed a finger to his neck, and judging from the way that his eyes widened, Oliver knew it couldn’t be good.

“Go,” the ginger said. “Go now, Oliver. _Now!”_

* * *

Blood.

There was _so much_ blood.

And then it was cold. _So cold._

Harry doubted he was _ever_ going to get over it.

_(“Expecto Patronum!”)_

_(“Percy?”)_

_(“Harry. Harry! His pulse is weakening!”)_

_(“Grab my hand, Harry. And hold onto to your Godfather and Mrs Black.”)_

Harry was supposed to be visiting the Dursleys that day, like it had been agreed just the year before. Irina came with him too, as promised. Sirius had insisted that he would be the one who’d take Harry and Irina there. Petunia hadn’t even opened the door for them yet when suddenly, Sirius doubled over in pain and started coughing up blood. Irina was barely quick enough to grab onto the man to stop him from falling flat onto his face when he passed out. Harry heard Petunia screaming in terror, and Vernon cursing loudly and insisting that they had to leave immediately. But he didn’t care. He felt the temperature drop a few degrees all around him, and he saw the sky darken. Chills ran down his spine as he realised what was happening. When the flock of Dementors all started to swoop toward them, the fear they all felt attracting those dark creatures like moth to a flame, Harry knew what he had to do- regardless of the fact that he was in a Muggle area and was about to do magic in front of Muggles. However, before he could utter the incantation, an unfamiliar silver crow came flying from behind him, fighting off the Dementors with its speed and persistence. Turning around, Harry found himself face to face to none other than Percy Weasley. That was when Irina cried out how critical Sirius’ condition was. Without further ado, the former Head Boy told him to hold on and took them all back to the Black Manor.

The last thing Harry saw before he Disapparated was the horrified looks on the Dursleys’ faces.

Back at the Manor, it was total chaos. Remus was leading a big group of Aurors out of the house, all of their wands at the ready. It was only then that Harry noticed the fire burning down the forest that surrounded the premises. He heard loud voices from Regulus’ room, and he nearly didn’t realise when Irina ran past him into her room. The heartbreaking scream from Irina, followed by the choked voice of Marlene explaining everything to her sister-in-law, brought a realisation to Harry’s mind. The fire, the sudden coughing up blood… Someone had attacked the Snow Tree, the source of magic for the Black brothers. With newfound terror, he remembered that Sirius and Regulus weren’t the only Blacks in the Manor. There were _three_ other Blacks, little ones who would be in the same situation as their fathers if it wasn’t for the fact that they hadn’t matured yet. He saw Oliver Wood coming toward him, and the Keeper quickly helped his friend to get Sirius into the room where Dorcas and her team of Healers were checking up on Regulus’ condition. Harry wasted no time and quickly went to his room, where he knew the Black children would be.

His worries were confirmed when he found the three Black children crying loudly, and the House Elves that were looking after them trying their best to cease their crying. They were all burning up, their little faces flushed red. When Payne—sweet, little Payne who would always have a special place in Harry’s heart, as his first sibling—saw him coming into the nursery, the toddler immediately raised her arms toward him, her face scrunched up as she cried loudly. Harry quickly told one of the Elves to get a Healer to tend to the kids as he went to Payne, lifting the girl into his arms.

“Hey, hey, hey…” Harry said, planting a kiss on the toddler’s forehead as he checked on the rest of the kids, the other two Black children and Hero. “You’ll be fine. I promise you will all better soon.”

“Hurts…” Payne sobbed. “Hurts a lot…”

“I know,” Harry said, replacing the towels on the Black children’s foreheads. Glancing at Hero, he found that thankfully, the baby wasn’t crying and merely stared at him with big green eyes.

When the door was opened, he found that it was Dorcas herself, her huge medical bag in her right hand and her green blouse stained with blood. She didn’t waste a second and immediately went to check her honorary nieces and nephew. Harry watched from where he was sitting, with Payne in his arms, at how carefully Dorcas treated the Black children. It took a while, but around half an hour later, he breathed in relief when the kids’ crying began to cease and their fevers broke. It took another half an hour for them to fall asleep. Being the oldest, Payne was the one who took the longest to sleep. Even then she shifted restlessly in Harry’s arms, letting out soft moans every now and then. But at least the kids were all finally asleep. It was all that mattered.

“Thank you for looking after them,” Dorcas said, smiling tiredly as she planted a kiss on Harry’s head. “You’re a great big brother to them.”

“It’s nothing really,” Harry said. Moving Payne as carefully as he could onto his bed, he asked, “How are Sirius and Regulus?”

“They’re… alive,” Dorcas answered in a small voice, taking a seat beside Harry. She let out a huge sigh, and Harry scooted closer toward her until he could lay his head on her shoulder. For a moment, he felt like he was five instead of fifteen, and he remembered how he used to sleep with Dorcas and Remus whenever Sirius and Marlene weren’t home.

“It’s the Tree, isn’t it? Someone destroyed the Snow Tree, and it nearly killed Padfoot and Reg.”

“It’s not exactly destroyed. If it was, the both of them would have… would have d- _died_.” The Healer ran a trembling hand through her hair as she pulled Harry closer to her. “But they almost did, and it’s _really_ taken a toll on them. I don’t think they’ll be waking up anytime soon. Probably in a week or so. I can’t say for sure.”

Harry thought about how terrible it would be for everyone if Sirius and Regulus didn’t wake up in a week. For one, the Sacreds would be left without someone in charge of them for a week, and knowing how the Sacreds practically ruled the Ministry, he had no doubt it would end up in disaster if they were without a leader. For another, Harry didn’t mean to be vain, but he _knew_ that the reason there was still some sort of order in the British Wizarding World was because of the Black family’s control over all of the other Pureblood families. With both Sirius and Regulus unable to oversee everything, Merlin knew what would happen. The Seeker truly didn’t like the suggestions his brain gave him. They were all too horrible to accept.

“Are they ever going to make a recovery though?” Harry inquired in a small voice. Dorcas took a while to answer, her head tilted to the side as she considered her answer.

“I remember Sirius telling me that the lives of all the purebred Blacks depend on the Tree. On the other hand, the Tree’s life also depends on the Black family. In short, they live together and die together. No Tree, no Blacks. No Blacks, no Tree… So, I figure, if the Tree regrows itself, it will help the recovery of both Sirius and Regulus.”

“But the Tree is _huge!_ It’s almost as big as the Whomping Willow. It would take _decades_.”

“That is true,” Dorcas admitted, looking even more desperate. “The only way the growth would be faster than the normal rate is if it’s during winter. But we’re in the middle of summer. So it’s imposs —“

Dorcas trailed off. Her eyes gradually widened as something seemed to click in her mind. Harry couldn’t help himself when he felt hope fill his heart. Leaning forward, he said, “What? Do you know something? You _do_ know something, right?”

The petite Healer nodded her head slowly. “Do you know that Andromeda nearly died when she gave birth to Tonks?” When Harry shook his head, Dorcas continued. “Well, she almost did. They said her womb was too… weak _,_ and the Healers did the Muggle C-section procedure to get the baby out. But she was bleeding too much, and that was really dangerous for her.”

“What happened next? Surely she didn’t die. We still see her every other week.”

“Of course. But that was only because your Godfather saved her. He was only fourteen back then.”

Harry frowned. “What could a fourteen year old do to sa– _oh! Did he take her to the Tree?”_

“Yes. And no. You see, Andromeda was disowned by her parents when she ran away with Ted Tonks. So there was no way Sirius could take her here, not when the property was owned by his parents, even though back then, there was only a vast area of trees here. The Black Forest, it was called.”

“What did Sirius do then?”

“Inside his insignia ring, there were three seeds of the Tree. They weren’t the actual seeds of the Snow Tree, just a sort of… miniature, althought it was more like half the size of the real tree. Those seeds were actually the dried up flowers of the Tree. But they had the same kind of magic, even if it wasn’t as strong as the magic of the actual Snow Tree. So, one morning, Sirius excused himself to Dumbledore to go visit Andromeda, and planted one seed in Andromeda’s garden.”

“I still don’t get it,” Harry said. “Even if it’s a miniature, it would _still_ take a long time for the seed to grow. Unless Sirius had some kind of herbology magic with him, it all seems pointless.”

Dorcas nodded. “Oh, he did. It’s in his blood.”

Harry gaped at his Godmother. “ _His blood?”_

Dorcas nodded for the second time. “Yep. I told you the connection between the Tree and all of the Blacks. Your Godfather happens to be the _purest_ of the Black family, seeing that his parents were still cousins. And the seed of a Snow Tree will only grow after getting a few drops of Black blood. That’s how the real Snow Tree first grew, because Arthfael Black used _his_ blood to grow it. You know the myth, don’t you? The myth about the origins of the Black family.”

“Yeah. Honestly, it was one of my favourite bedtime stories growing up.”

“Well, it’s kind of true. The first ever Black, Arthfael, was raised as a fae by his mother Queen Mab, but when his father, who was one of King Arthur’s knights, insisted that the Queen returned his son, she had no choice but to do so in order to stop her kingdom from getting attacked. But Mab didn’t send his son away without giving him something to make sure he would be safe. She gave him an egg-sized, pure-white seed, and told Arthfael to mix it with seven drops of his blood, and plant it in a land where magic was the strongest, in the middle of winter. She told him that whenever he needed her, he needed only to come to the Tree and she would do everything in her power to help him through the Tree. Arthfael planted the seed in the forest where it was rumoured that Merlin was born, and with his father’s influence, claimed the whole land to be his.”

“So, are you saying…” Harry slowly began, his mind trying to process everything. “We can either take Sirius and Regulus to Andromeda’s house to expose them to the magic of the Tree, _or_ we can have Andromeda drop her blood on the our Tree to help it grow?”

“I would prefer the latter suggestion. I don’t think it’s safe to move either Sirius or Regulus around. But yes, that’s what I’m saying. Although I have a feeling that Andromeda’s blood alone won’t be enough. I think we’ll need Narcissa’s blood as well. They’re Blacks, but their blood isn’t as pure as Sirius’ and Regulus’ blood.”

“What about Draco and Tonks? Technically, they’re Blacks too, right?”

“Not Draco, though. I heard he’s part-Veela, from his father’s side. Veela are summer creatures. His blood will be poison to the Tree. To be honest, I don’t get how children of Malfoy-Black descendants are not Squibs. Their contrasting core-magic should cancel each other out .”

“Huh. Okay then, not Draco. I think I’ll go write to Tonks to—“

The door to his room opened, and Remus came in with Percy and Oliver. The werewolf was covered in soot, and smelled of smoke. But even if he was dressed in silk robes, there was no hiding the grim look in his yellow-green eyes. Harry immediately presumed the worst, and he didn’t even realise it when he leaned toward Dorcas. He was pleased when he felt the woman embrace him protectively, like a mother would to her son. It was only then that Harry noticed the letter in Percy’s hand, and saw the familiar Ministry seal on it.

“What is it?” Dorcas asked. Her eyes followed Harry’s line of sight, and she nodded to the letter in Percy’s hand. “What’s in that letter?”

“I think you’d better explain that yourself, _Mr Weasley,_ ” Remus said coolly to Percy, in a tone that Harry had only ever heard once, when he was arguing with Regulus in Harry’s third year, after the younger Black had tried to sneak out of the Manor to find Sirius.

Like his youngest brother, Percy turned fiery red when he was embarrassed. He glanced at Oliver, who refused to look at him, before letting out a heavy sigh and turning to look at Harry. Clearing his throat, the ginger said, “This is a letter of expulsion from the Ministry for… for one Harry James Potter.”

“ _Expulsion?”_ Dorcas practically yelled. “Whatever for? What did my son do?”

Percy once again glanced at Oliver, but the Keeper still wouldn’t look back at him. Harry noticed that Percy’s voice broke a bit when he continued. “It’s because h-he… he used the Patronus Charm in the presence of Muggles.”

“Wait, _what?_ ” Harry said, utterly confused. “I didn’t do that. _You_ did that. It was your Patronus!”

When Oliver marched out of the room, Percy shut his eyes firmly as if his best friend’s departure physically pained him. “I… I’m just delivering the news, Harry. I don’t– I’m sorry. I really am.”

Before Harry could ask him what he meant, Percy had left the room and gone running after Oliver, calling out his name. Harry didn’t know how long they all stood in silence after the two former Gryffindors left, because he was too busy trying to comprehend Percy’s words. _Expulsion._ He was expelled from Hogwarts. In all his years, he’d never thought it would be possible for him to get expelled. It wasn’t because he was too vain to think that his family’s influence would save him from getting expelled. But it was more because he was pretty sure that he was still remarkably well-behaved, compared to his father and Godfathers back in their school days. He didn’t even notice the two set of hands wrapped around him, and it took him a while to realise that they were Remus’ and Dorcas’ hands, and they were hugging him.

“What does it mean, Moony?” Harry asked. “Why did they do that?”

Remus let out a heavy sigh as he put his chin on top of Harry’s forehead, like all those times he had done back when Harry was only a child and was asking why his parents had to die, despite the fact that they were almost the same height now. “I think it’s pretty obvious why, Prongslet. This is Fudge’s way of making things even with Sirius.”


	2. Pureblood Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tonks might be related to the most powerful Pureblood family in Britain, but she felt like she still had so much to learn about Pureblood customs.

Tonks didn’t remember anything about Regulus Black when she was a child, except for the fact that he was her mother’s cousin and Sirius’ little brother. After all, her mother had been disowned long before she was born. Tonks was only six when Regulus had supposedly died. She remembered coming with her mother to the flat Sirius shared with his best friends, remembered how her mother had let Sirius cry in her arms about how he had lost his brother. Fast forward to a few years later, when she’d finally met Regulus, and she was all grown-up already. The man looked so much like his older brother, although Tonks had to admit that he lacked something, making him look… _less_ than his brother. Even if he was the more reserved one between the two of them, Tonks could see that in many ways, Regulus and his brother were almost the same person. They had the same stubbornness, same temper, same charisma— _everything._ In Tonks’ eyes, Sirius had always been her role model, someone that she idolised so much. However, she could honestly say that in the couple of years she’d known Regulus, the younger Black had soon become another role model to her. They both seemed so terrifyingly powerful in everything they did. She aspired to be someone at least half as impressive as the two brothers were.

That was why the sight of both Sirius and Regulus Black lying unconscious, looking like death warmed up, was incredibly bizarre.

“Are you sure there’s nothing that I can do?” Draco asked, standing beside Harry with a serious look in his eyes. “I mean, _I’m_ a Black too. Why can’t I help?”

“I’m afraid it’s my fault, son,” Lucius replied. “Your Veela-blood comes from me, and according to Healer Lupin, there’s a chance that your Veela-blood might affect the Fae-magic poorly because they’re from opposite sides.”

Draco sighed and, for a moment, he looked very much like a petulant child. “Why is everything about me always about opposite sides,” the blond muttered faintly. It was faint enough that Tonks was sure that she and Harry were the only ones who’d heard it, as they stood beside the blond.

“Thanks for caring about my Godfathers, Malfoy,” Harry said appreciatively, patting the blond’s shoulder. “It means a lot.”

“Yeah, well. They’re always nice to me anyway,” the blond answered stiffly in the typically aloof manner of the Malfoys. Harry chuckled but said nothing.

“So, what are we supposed to do?” Tonks asked, looking at Remus for help. “You said you needed our blood. How exactly would our blood help?”

“Your combined blood will help the Tree’s growth,” Remus replied. “We just need seven drops of your blood. So it’ll be safe.”

“All right. Let’s do this,” Narcissa said, nodding at her sister who gave her a smile.

“Well then, please follow me,” Remus said to the three Black ladies. To the rest of the crowd, he said, “The rest of you, please stay here. Especially Draco and you, Lucius. As a werewolf, my senses are magnified, and I can already sense how your magic is affecting the magic here. It won’t be good if you come near the Tree.”

True enough, as they walked into the forest to get to the Tree, Tonks felt the weather to cool down a great deal the closer they got to it. She noticed that since the two Malfoy males had arrived at the Manor, there was a magical shift in the air. When Sirius and Regulus were around, the Malfoys’ presence had almost no affect on it at all. But with the two Black heirs unconscious and vulnerable, the Malfoys’ magic was nearly overwhelming. As a part-Black herself, Tonks could how feel the Fae-magic in her blood felt almost threatened by their presence. By the time she reached the Tree, it felt like she’d just gotten out of water, and her lungs seemed to expand, allowing her to breathe more freely. She would have breathed in the air greedily if she hadn’t noticed the burnt-off stump of the Snow Tree. She’d only been to the Tree once, but she remembered how majestic it was with its pure-white bark and the sparkly leaves that glinted like the stars. Even though she wasn’t a pure Black like the brothers, deep down Tonks felt how the destruction of the Tree was slowly taking a toll on her magic and health.

“Where should we… drop our blood?” Tonks asked awkwardly. She eyed her left palm for a while before moving her gaze to the blade in her right hand.

“Honestly? I have no idea,” Remus admitted in a small voice. “I- I thought either Andromeda or Narcissa could help me with that. You know Sirius. He hates talking about his family. Regulus is no different, really.”

“Us female Blacks aren’t really familiar with the ancient rituals, to be honest,” Andromeda began. “Learning about the rituals is something that’s only for the male Blacks. Incredibly sexist, I know. But I think it’s only logical we drop our blood on the roots of the Tree, right?”

“That’s right,” Narcissa agreed. “Come on, let’s try it. If it doesn’t work, we can try it again. It’s only a few drops.”

Remus nodded in agreement. He used his wand to dig up the ground a little bit, so the massive roots weren’t covered by dirt. The werewolf then stepped aside to allow Tonks and the two older witches to come forward, all of them holding their respective blades. The Metamorphmagus took a deep breath before making a cut on her palm, cringing a little bit at the pain. She quickly closed her hand though, squeezing it tightly to urge the blood and thrust it forward until it was hovering directly above the roots. Beside her, her mother and aunt did the same thing. It didn’t take long for the blood to fall, and she counted to seven before pulling her hand back so she could heal the wound. She moved back to her mother and aunt, falling to stand beside Remus as they all waited with bated breath, hoping that it would work. They waited for what seemed like ages, and Tonks thought that they’d failed, when suddenly, the stump glowed brightly with blue light. Everyone watched in fascination as the burnt spot that covered the stump began to fade away, replaced by its original pure-white colour as the Tree began to grow. What would probably have taken the Tree at least a decade would now only take a few weeks instead. The four adults had to step backwards to get out of the way of the Tree as the roots expanded all around, their eyes wide with excitement as they saw the Tree grew taller. Almost instantly, Tonks felt rejuvenated, especially when sparkly leaves began to cover the branches.

She looked around and noticed that the forest seemed to bloom along with the Tree’s recovery. Tonks couldn’t help herself when she let out a contented sigh at the feeling of the magic that blessed her and every Black around. If she paid attention closely, she thought she could almost hear the vague hum of the magic, as if it was just awakening from its deep slumber. Tonks only hoped that back at the Manor, it was helping the Black brothers with their own recovery. It was obvious that she wasn’t the only who hoped this, because, before she knew it, Remus had ran past her and was already making his way back to the Manor, an eager smile on his face. They reached the Manor in record time, and saw the two Malfoy men going after Harry into the room where Sirius and Regulus were. The two Mrs Blacks and Dorcas were already in the room, and judging from their beaming smiles, Tonks knew that they’d done it. She turned to look at the two older-brother figures in her life, and was pleased to find that their pale faces were now back to their normal colours, and were glowing with their newly restored health.

“It’s working!” Marlene exclaimed as she turned to hug Irina. “You three did it! Oh, thank you!”

“It’s not a problem, really,” Andromeda said, smiling at her cousins’ wives.

“But why aren’t they waking up already?” Harry inquired, eyeing the two brothers closely. “I mean, technically, they’re fine now, right?”

“Harry, the normal human body takes time to recover,” Dorcas explained patiently. “Even as wizards, with the help of magic, it would still take some time for Sirius and Regulus to recover completely. They almost… _died,_ remember?”

“Oh yeah, right,” Harry muttered, looking a tad bit embarrassed, but still glowing with happiness.

“Lucius, love, are you all right?” Narcissa said to her husband, earning everyone’s attention. The blond Pureblood was leaning on the wall behind him, giving them all the impression that he needed help to support his weight. Beside him, Tonks noticed that Draco didn’t look so good either.

“It’s the Winter magic,” Lucius explained, his voice low and a little raspy. “The Tree’s newly restored health makes the magic three times more powerful than it usually is. It’s fighting our core-magic. Veelas are summer creatures, remember?”

“Oh, do you two need to lie down for a bit?” Irina asked, her question catching Lucius off-guard.

But the Pureblood recovered from his shock quickly and said, “Thank you very much, Mrs Black. But I think it’s better for Draco and I to head back home. Staying here for longer won’t be really good for either of us.”

“Do you want me to come with you two?” Narcissa said, looking incredibly worried for her husband and son. “I mean, you two will have to rest _and_ look after Lyra too.”

“Cissy, we’ll be fine. No, you stay here with your sister. Catch up on the gossip,” Lucius said, winking at the blonde witch. “And Lyra’s a big girl now. We no longer need to treat her like a baby.”

“Alright then,” Narcissa replied, looking pleased as she gave both her husband and son a quick peck on their cheeks. “Promise that you’ll send for me if you need anything, though.”

“Promise, Mother,” Draco said.

“I guess I’ll head back too,” Tonks said, not long after the Malfoy men had left. “Charlie went to visit Madam Bagshot this morning to ask for help with our assignment. He should be back now, I think. I promised we’d look into what he found together.”

“Oh, okay,” Marlene said. With a smile, she gave Tonks a tight hug, and said, “Once again, thank you very much for your help.”

“Like my mother just said; it’s no problem,” Tonks replied. “I really care for Sirius and Regulus. It pains me to see them like this. I’m glad I could do something to help them. Just be sure to tell me as soon as possible once they’re awake.”

“Of course,” Irina said, when Tonks turned to hug her. “If I have to, I’ll go get you myself.”

“Awesome… Well, I’ll go now. And oh, Mum? Charlie wanted you and Dad to come around tomorrow. He wanted us to have dinner together, the four of us.”

“Sure. I’ll tell your father about it, make sure he’s free tomorrow night,” Andromeda said, giving her daughter a peck on her forehead. “Tell Charlie I said hi, okay?”

Tonks promised she’d pass it on to her boyfriend, and went back to the house she shared with Charlie via the Manor’s Fireplace. She heard noises from the kitchen, and a smile began to grow when she realised that Charlie was probably preparing their lunch. Her smile widened when she saw the ginger waving his wand around to make what looked like the Muggle cuisine macaroni and cheese, his back turned toward her as he focused on his work. There was a Muggle tape on the counter not far from him, and the song _Somebody to Love_ by the Muggle band Queen was playing. Charlie was singing along with Freddie Mercury, and even attempting some dance moves, so Tonks couldn’t help herself when she let out a giggle. Upon hearing her voice, Charlie whipped around, his face blushing a shade darker than his hair. Unfortunately for him, it only made Tonks laugh harder as she went toward him to greet him with a kiss, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

“Has anyone ever told you that you _do_ have a good voice? And that butt-shaking move is just jaw-droppping,” Tonks said with a mischievous grin.

“I’m glad that you enjoyed my disastrous performance,” Charlie replied, chuckling. “I suppose I should thank you for introducing me to this wonderful band. And The Beatles too. Those Muggles are amazing when it comes to music.”

“Well, you should thank Sirius as well. He’s the one who introduced me to The Beatles and Queen. Despite being one of the most Pureblooded wizards there is, he knows quite a lot of great Muggle musicians. Even my father admits that too, and he’s a Muggleborn. Mum said it was Harry’s mother who told Sirius about all the Muggle musicians.”

“Harry’s mum certainly had a great taste. I like that band Genesis too.”

“Me too. She certainly had amazing taste. And she had great taste in movies too. You remember that time when I brought you a few movies from Lily’s old collection, from Sirius? He said her favourite was _One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest._ I think if she was alive today, she’d have loved that movie _The Silence of the Lambs._ ”

“Honestly, I’d love to have met her. She seemed like a great person.” Charlie didn’t even miss a beat when he continued talking, as he served Tonks a plate of the macaroni and cheese. “In fact, if I could go back in time, I’d love to meet Harry’s parents, and Sirius and Remus back in the old days.”

“Of course, you would. And this tastes great, by the way. Thanks, love.”

Charlie smiled and began to eat as well. There were a couple of minutes of silence as the couple ate, although it didn’t last very long. Charlie was the one who broke it, once he’d swallowed the macaroni in his mouth. “Speaking of Sirius and his friends, how is he and Regulus? Did it work?”

“It did, thank Merlin!” Tonks replied. “They aren’t awake yet, but from the look of it, they’re better now. And you know what? Although I know that we’re related to the Fae, I’d never really known much about it. I used to think it was only a myth, you know? But when we restored the Tree, I actually felt so much better than I usually do.”

“That’s interesting… What about the Malfoys? I mean, since they’re part-Veela, I would assume that they’d be affected.”

“Oh, they were. Both Lucius and Draco had to go home earlier because they didn’t feel so good, especially Lucius. I was worried they were going to collapse on their feet. They looked so pale, even more than they usually are. If you ask me, I think it’s terrifying how these supposedly great Pureblooded wizards could easily be defeated, because their one advantage as part-fae also happens to be their undoing.”

Charlie was quiet for a while before he spoke again. “How much do you know about the Blacks’ and the Malfoys’ relations to the Faes?”

Tilting her head to the side as she considered her answer, Tonks said, “To be honest, I don’t know much. I said this to Remus today, but female Blacks aren’t supposed to know much about the family history and all that. I personally think it’s unfair that we women aren’t treated equally as the men.”

“I see… Well, that’s kind of a bummer, because what I found from Bathilda today has a _huge_ connection to the Blacks and Malfoys. And before you ask me what, I suggest we finish our lunch quickly so we can talk about it our room. I have all the information there, and we can read it together as we discuss it.”

Tonks pouted at Charlie, to which the ginger gave a wink as a response. But she obliged, quickly finishing her lunch silently. It was about half an hour later, once they were done eating and cleaning up the dishes, that they sat on their bed, surrounded by all of the notes they’d gathered about the Viviane Stone and the Deathly Hallows. Since their last visit to Bathilda Bagshot almost a year before, with Sirius and Remus, Charlie himself had visited the historian almost weekly. When they’d left abruptly that day from the woman’s house, the two Aurors dragged Tonks and Charlie straight to see Dumbledore to talk about the Hallows. For as long as she could remember, Tonks had only seen unfailing loyalty from Sirius and Remus toward Dumbledore. But that day, when the two of them asked the old man what he knew about Harry’s relation to the Hallows, the both of them looked positively livid, especially Sirius. The two senior Aurors had seemingly forgotten about Tonks and Charlie as they pushed Dumbledore into telling them the truth. It made the young couple feel uncomfortable to be in the room with them.

“You had the Cloak with you the night James and Lily died,” Sirius had said that day, his temper rising. “I never thought much about why you needed to inspect it. I figured that it was only normal that you wanted to check such an artefact. But I know the truth now. You _wanted_ to pursue your old dream, didn’t you? Conquering Death by being in possession of _two_ Hallows.”

“You defeated Grindelwald, who was known to be the last wielder of the Elder Wand,” Remus added. The usually calm werewolf seemed to be losing control as well, his green eyes flashing yellow for a split second. “So that means you’ve had the wand since forever, since the day you defeated Grindelwald. And when James showed you the Cloak, you decided to _borrow_ it from him, even though you knew Voldemort was hunting James and his family.”

“You selfish bastard,” Sirius snarled, a look of disgust crossing his face. “It turns out you’re _just_ as power-hungry as your best friend. If you hadn’t taken the Cloak, James and Lily would be _alive!_ ”

One of Dumbledore’s many trinkets exploded when Sirius screamed his last word, as a result of his outburst. Tonks let out a small squeak at the sound, and she was sure that Charlie did as well. Even Fawkes the phoenix started to flap her wings restlessly, her beady-eyes watching the three older wizards warily. The room was entirely silent as they all waited for Dumbledore to speak. The old man had been silent since the four of them had come into his office, sitting on his seat quietly as he rather impassively listened to Sirius and Remus yelling at him. It felt like hours later when Dumbledore sighed, lowering his head in what seemed almost like shame as he pinched the bridge of his broken nose tiredly. Right at that moment, it was the first time Tonks realised just how _old_ Dumbledore really was. He even seemed to have aged about another decade when he looked back at Sirius and Remus.

“You have no idea how I’ve spent the last _fourteen years_ wallowing in guilt and shame for that moment of weakness,” Dumbledore began in a small voice, and for a second, he looked like a lost little boy who was looking for comfort. “You were right. You two were _absolutely_ right. And I know no matter what I say will change the past, but for what it’s worth, I am _sorry._ I truly am. You see, after everything I’ve done, everything I’ve seen, I’m still none the wiser. After all these years, it seems power will always be my biggest weakness.”

“Explain it to us,” Sirius said, and his voice sounded shaky with anger. “Explain everything you’ve got to do with Grindelwald and the Hallows. And I _beg_ you, convince me that all this time, I wasn’t following the orders of a power-hungry man who couldn’t move on from his past.”

Dumbledore smiled sadly when he said, “I promise, I’ll try my best.”

The moment the old man started to speak, there was no stopping him. He started with his family: of his sister Ariana, who was attacked by Muggles to the point of insanity; of his father Percival, who had attacked the Muggles in return and was imprisoned in Azkaban for it; of his mother Kendra, who was killed by Ariana’s accidental magic; and of his brother Aberforth, who hated him and blamed him for the fate of their family. Dumbledore looked extremely embarrassed when he told them about his relationship with Grindelwald, about how his… _fondness_ for the other wizard had resulted in him simply not seeing that Grindelwald wasn’t a good person. He admitted that deep down, he knew what kind of man Grindelwald was, but he was just so fascinated by him, by his incredible intelligence that was beyond compare. When he reached the part where he challenged Grindelwald, to stop him from causing more damage to the world, after he’d told them about his sister’s death, Tonks felt like she was seeing another person. The Dumbledore she knew, the one she’d grown up as thinking of almost Godlike, had turned to be nowhere as perfect as she’d always believed him to be.

“So, I defeated Grindelwald, and put him in Nurmengard because I didn’t trust myself to not come and visit him if he were in Azkaban instead,” Dumbledore said. “In return, I finally had his wand—the Elder Wand that I’d been looking for since I was only eighteen. Honestly, when I first held the wand, I was _terrified._ I was worried that I would be consumed with the thirst for power at the thought that _finally,_ I’d managed to get the Wand. But much to my own surprise, I only felt _relieved_ that I’d saved everyone else. The sense of relief changed into the need to be good, to tame the Wand so no one else would be hurt because of it. And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing for the past six decades.”

Dumbledore then moved on to explaining why he’d had the Cloak with him the night the Potters died. He said that just a few weeks before the couple died, Dumbledore went to visit them one last time to discuss their plans to leave the country. Dumbledore was a little skeptical at first, that the young man could pull off the greatest escape with his young wife and their newborn son. But then James showed him the Cloak, and said that he could hide Harry under the Cloak while he and Lily would be disguised under a heavy Glamour Charm. Dumbledore shamefully admitted that he’d almost stopped listening right then and there, his whole attention set solely on the Cloak in James’ hands. That was when the greed consumed him, and before he knew it, he had asked James whether he could borrow it.

“And of course, James gave it to you,” Sirius snapped, interrupting the old man. “He _trusted_ you. Like all of us. And you betrayed him.”

Dumbledore said nothing to Sirius’ accusations, and Sirius started to yell some more at the aging wizard. But as she listened quietly to her cousin’s tirade, Tonks slowly realised that even though it _was_ Dumbledore’s fault for borrowing the Cloak, she knew that it wouldn’t have stopped Voldemort from killing James and Lily Potter. Pettigrew had probably already sold the couple to Voldemort to save his stinking skin, and if her math was right, seeing that James had told Dumbledore about the Cloak just days prior to his death, they wouldn’t have made it anyway. There was not enough time. And when Tonks, much to everyone’s surprise, explained this to the two Aurors, only then did Sirius and Remus finally stop talking, their faces inscrutable as they listened to her. It was obvious that the two Aurors wouldn’t just accept her explanation in Dumbledore’s defence, but it was actually Dumbledore himself who countered her argument.

“You’re so kind, my dear,” Dumbledore said. “Sirius and Remus are right, though. I made a mistake, and it cost us the lives of two _great_ people who didn’t deserve to die. My ambition, my fear of Death, my… _vision_ of living in a better world, it cost us the lives of James and Lily Potter. I am not much different than Grindelwald or Voldemort after all.”

“That’s not true,” Charlie said, speaking for the first time. “There _is_ a difference between you and Grindelwald or Voldemort. A huge, significant difference.”

“I’m sorry. I beg you pardon?” Dumbledore said, looking entirely caught off-guard.

Charlie shrugged, but Tonks could see that he was a bit nervous. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? The difference between you and them is that you’ve _changed._ You realised you were wrong, and you were ashamed of it. You regretted what you’ve done. And then you changed, for the better. You stopped Grindelwald, and now you’re trying your best to stop Voldemort. I think that’s enough proof that you’re different than them.”

With that, Sirius and Remus dropped all of their hostility. True, they didn’t immediately seem to trust Dumbledore wholeheartedly like they used to. But at least they were willing to accept that Dumbledore wasn’t _entirely_ a bad person. Tonks took it as a chance to change the subject, asking the Headmaster about the Viviane Stone. It took Dumbledore a while to answer, because it seemed like he was still in shock over the fact that Charlie had defended him. But he quickly gathered himself, and explained that because his and Grindewald’s priority back then had been to find the Hallows, he hadn’t had much chance to research more about the Stone. Then so many things had happened after Ariana’s death, and he’d lost all his desire to find out about the Stone, fearing that he’d make the same mistakes twice. Tonks could definitely understand it. If she were Dumbledore, and her obsession toward a powerful artefact became the reason why her sibling had died, she would also steer clear of every single powerful artefact she found.

“So you don’t know anything about the Viviane Stone?” Remus asked flatly, his tone clearly suggested that it would take him and Sirius some time to fully trust the old man again. Judging from the look on Dumbledore’s face, he was entirely okay with it.

“I’m afraid I don’t know much. What I do know is that the Stone was originally a lot bigger. It was broken down into two parts. The first part had the ability to enhance someone’s power, while the second part had the ability to protect the wearer from all kinds of danger. I read that the first part of the Stone was buried with Merlin when he died, while the Lady of the Lake kept the other half. You know, quite contrary to popular belief, Merlin and Viviane were married, and their love led to a girl whose name was never written in the history books. And so, Viviane passed down the Stone to her daughter, who then passed it on to her daughter, and so on, for many generations of a family with a history of renowned Seers. The Stone is _always_ passed down from mother to daughter, as Viviane had done herself.”

At this point, Dumbledore stopped to glance at Sirius, who was gaping at him. Clenching his jaw, the Pureblood then said, “Are you saying that while Chuck here has the part that was supposed to be buried with Merlin, the other part has a huge possibility of being in the possession of a _child_?”

“Well, if her mother followed the tradition, and the girl kept it with her after all this time, then yes. I believe that she has the other part of the Stone.”

“Hold on a second,” Charlie said. “What are you talking about? Who has the other part of the Stone? A child? She? Who is this kid?”

It was Remus who answered him instead, sharing a look of disbelief with his best friend.

“It’s Luna Lovegood. She’s the descendant of Merlin and the Lady of the Lake.”

Ever since then, they all agreed to pay extra attention to the Lovegood girl. It became a lot easier once Charlie revealed that the girl was best friends with his sister Ginny. The blonde had an unsual friendship with Ginny and the young Greengrass girl. The three of them were all so different from one another, but according to Charlie’s story, they were all very close. The former dragonologist tried to find out from his sister whether Luna ever wore a necklace or something similar. With a laugh, Ginny explained that Luna wore at least five different necklaces on a daily basis, because she believed they could ward off some weird creature her father had told her about. It wasn’t until the night of the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament, when Cedric Diggory came out of the Maze with Harry the night of Voldemort’s return, that Tonks and Charlie found out that Luna _did_ have the second half of the Viviane Stone with her. According to Harry, Cedric was wearing a medallion the whole time during the Third Task. Sirius himself then told them that, when he went to visit Cedric to ask him some questions about Voldemort, the medallion the Head Boy was wearing was none other the Viviane Stone, with Rune-engraved gold circling it like a halo.

“Did you tell Professor Bagshot that you and Luna have both parts of the Stone?” Tonks asked Charlie after she was done reading his notes.

“Of course not. Moody said he’d have my head if anyone else knew about the Stone,” Charlie drawled, cringing at the thought of Moody hexing him for blabbing. “Besides, the woman was talking nonstop about the Lady of the Lake, I barely had time to talk. I think it’s been a long time since someone was willing to listen to her spewing out her extensive knowledge.”

Tonks hummed, pitying the old woman who had probably lived alone for decades. “What did you find out from her then?”

“Well, do you know that the Lady of the Lake was the first ever recorded Veela in history? In fact, she was probably one of the first in the world. It was said that her Veela-blood was so pure, she could transform into a bird– a halcyon –instead of a harpy like all the other Veela do.”

“So, what you’re saying is, Luna Lovegood is part-Veela too? Like Draco?”

“From her mother’s side, yes… Now that you mention it, it should have been obvious that they both have the same ancestors. I don’t know about other countries, but Madam Bagshot said that for British or French wizards and witches, almost eighty-percent of the blond ones are descendants of Veela, especially the Pureblooded ones.”

“That’s interesting…” Tonks thought of Narcissa and her blond hair, and made a note in one of her books to ask her mother whether Grandma Black had any Veela ancestors. If that was the case, it could be the reason why Draco’s magic didn’t cancel itself out, despite the contrasting Veela and Fae magic he had. “Right. What else did you find?”

Charlie’s expression dimmed as he pushed a piece of ripped parchment into her hand, which looked so old that Tonks feared it would turn to dust. “This page is almost two thousand years old. It’s the page that Merlin himself wrote on when he made the Stone with Viviane. You can see it’s written in Old English, but the Professor has translated it so we can read it.”

Tonks looked down at the parchement to read the translation of the notes Merlin had made. Frowning, she said. “Merlin originally wanted to _destroy_ the Stone? Why did he make it in the first place if he thought the Stone would bring danger instead?”

“Because of Morgana. She wanted the Stone to defeat Arthur. With both parts of the Stone, she could do anything. And that’s why people like Grindelwald and Voldemort can _never_ have it.”

“But…” Tonks trailed off, reading the rest of the note, which sent chills down her spine. ”If… if anything happens to either part of the Stone, it will _kill_ anyone who’s been touched by the magic of the Stone! _It’s said here!_ If we destroy it, as per Merlin’s original intention before he died, it will—“

“Kill Cedric Diggory,” Charlie said grimly. “So we have no choice but to hide it. The other half is pretty well-hidden already. As long as Luna and Cedric keep quiet about the medallion, I think it’ll be fine.”

“That leaves us with the one you have,” Tonks said, eyeing the Stone that was currently sitting on their bedside, glowing luminiously. Shrugging, she then said, “Well, we’ll think about that later. I’m sure we can always ask Sirius whether he can fit the Stone into one of his many vaults in Gringotts. If he can fit that gigantic Samoan artefact in his vault, I’m sure he can—“

Tonks stopped, her eyes widening as she pictured a particular object she’d seen once in the main Black family vault, the one that her mother shared with her cousins. She was only ninteen, and it was a few months before she’d left with Sirius to rescue Charlie. She was tagging along with the Animagus-Auror, who’d gone there to store an object under Dumbledore’s orders. She only took a quick glance at it, but even then, she’d been incredibly affected by the object. Or rather, by what she’d _seen_ on the object. Tonks had only ever heard about the Mirror of Erised before, and she’d never thought much about it. But even before Sirius had warned her about the dangers of the Mirror, with one look at the image she saw on it, she realised what it would do to her mental health if she were to dwell on what she saw for more than just a quick glance. But the vision– her _desires-_ that were reflected in the Mirror, gave her an idea about what they could do to hide the other half of the Viviane Stone.

_(There she was. Wearing a beautiful white gown that had once belonged to her mother, something she wouldn’t have dreamed of ever doing. Her parents were standing behind her, and both of them were beaming up at her, extremely proud and happy for their daughter. There was also Sirius and his family, the Animagus sending her a mischievous wink as he mouthed his well-wishes. But if she was to be honest, her attention was set solely on the tattooed, redheaded bad-boy standing beside her, who looked like a real-life Prince Charming as he slipped a ring onto her finger.)_

“...you okay, love? Tonks?” Charlie called out in worry, snapping her out of her reverie.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tonks said, blinking her eyes rapidly to focus her thoughts. “I just… I had something on my mind.”

“Really? What were you thinking about?”

Instead of answering, Tonks leaned to the side and reached for the Viviane Stone. She vaguely registered Charlie asking her what she was doing, but she ignored him as she took out the hair-clip her father had gifted her for her eighteenth birthday, and Transformed it into a simple ring. So focused as she was on her task, she didn’t realise Charlie had finally stopped talking, and was silently watching her casting a spell to Stick the huge Stone onto the ring. A smile began to tug on the corners of her lips as she eyed the results of her work.

“Darling, what are you— “

“Charlie, do you still love me?” Tonks cut him off, catching him off-guard.

“What kind of question is—“

“Just answer me, babe. _Please._ ”

Charlie was still frowning, but they both knew he could never deny her anything. “Of course I do. I told you I love you, Tonks. Till I die, remember? I’m yours. Heart, body, mind and soul.”

Tonks’ smile grew bigger as she blinked her tears away. “Well then, Charles Weasley, will you marry me and make an honest woman out of me?”

The Metamorphmagus was expecting the ginger to be surprised. But Charlie didn’t even miss a beat when he said, _“_ No _._ ”

_“Excuse me?”_ Tonks almost yelled, highly offended.

Shrugging, Charlie said, “You’re not on your knees, babe. If you’re going to propose to me, I want to say yes to a proper proposal from the woman I love.”

“You bastard,” Tonks laughed, getting off of the bed so she could get down on one knee. She was grinning so widely by then, she thought her face might split. “There. Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Charlie chuckled, giving her a wink.

But even before Tonks could do her proposal once again, Charlie had pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply until they both fell back on the bed with her positioned on top of him, straddling him by the waist. Letting out a giggle, Tonks said, “So, what do you say, Mr Weasley?”

“Darling, I thought you’d never ask,” Charlie said as he kissed her again, prompting another giggle from the Metamorphmagus. “You know how much I’ve loved you, since I was only thirteen and you were only twelve. _Of course_ I’ll marry you. It’s why I invited your parents for dinner tomorrow. I wanted to ask for you father’s permission. But so bloody _typical_ of you to beat me to it. I expect you to comei to the Burrow for lunch tomorrow and ask _my_ father to marry me.”

“Consider it done,” Tonks said. “Now shut up and show me just how much you love me.”


	3. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry won his case against the Ministry, and they were all celebrating it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long. Life has been...*sighs heavily*
> 
> Anyway, big thanks to Oksana Polastri for editing this mess. You're the best <3

“If you put _one foot_ out of this room, I swear to God, Regulus Arcturus Black, you can go sleep in your studio _for a month_!”

“Why is it my brother is allowed to join the party and not me? _It’s unfair!_ ”

“Says who? Pretty sure Marlene has Sirius locked in their room until next year. For God’s sake, Reg; you _just_ woke up thirty-six hours ago, after being unconscious for nearly _two months_. I’m sure Harry will understand that you – “

“MY GODSON WAS NEARLY EXPELLED, AND JUST WON A TRIAL AGAINST THE WHOLE WIZENGAMOT, AND YOU’RE TELLING ME I _CAN’T_ BE THERE FOR A PARTY THAT _I_ THREW FOR HIM? WOMAN, YOU’RE BEING ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS.”

“OH, THAT’S RICH, MR HEROIC AUROR. AS IF YOU DIDN’T JUST SPEND ALMOST TWO MONTHS FIGHTING FOR YOUR LIFE. MERLIN, IF YOU GET OFF THIS BED, YOU’RE _NEVER_ GETTING ON IT EVER AGAIN!”

“ _MARLENE!_ THAT’S JUST- _REGULUS, BACK ME UP HERE!_ I KNOW YOU’RE LISTENING, BROTHER! TELL OUR _WIVES_ THAT THEY’RE CRAZY!”

_“CRAZY?_ YOU’RE CALLING ME AND YOUR WIFE CRAZY, SIRIUS? _THAT’S IT!_ I DON’T CARE THAT YOU’RE OVER SIX FEET TALL, THAT YOU’RE POSSIBLY ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL WIZARDS IN ALL OF EUROPE. _I DON’T CARE!_ I’M GOING TO SHOW YOU HOW WE SETTLE THINGS THE _MUGGLE_ WAY, YOU JERK!”

“ _YES, IRINA!_ SHOW HIM HOW IT’S DONE, GIRL!“

Harry sighed heavily as he shut the door to the nursery behind him, where his siblings and cousin were being entertained by Ginny with all his old Quidditch figurines. Upon his entrance, the ginger offered him a small smile as she patted the spot next to her for him, obviously having heard the commotion. It was impossible not to after all, with the way the two Black brothers and their respective wives were yelling at each other. Harry was entirely convinced that they could be heard across the country. The Seeker himself was having conflicted thoughts about it. With the decision that he _wasn’t_ going to be expelled after all, thanks to Amelia Bones, a part of Harry wished that Sirius and Regulus would be there with him to celebrate it together. But the other part of him, the logical part that would gladly sacrifice his happiness to save his family, preferred that the brothers were locked in a room. After all, they were being watched by the most competent Healers in the country, and also being hand-fed all kinds of medicine and healthy food to make sure that they recovered properly. He knew he couldn’t have both though, so he said nothing and tried to cheer himself up. If only the two Black couples would just stop yelling at each other, it’d be more than enough for Harry.

Being Harry’s Godmother, even though she was a member of the Wizengamot, meant that Marlene wasn’t allowed to attend the trial. Fortunately, she was generally liked by nearly everyone, and she had Amelia Bones promise her that Harry would get the trial he deserved. Remus took Harry to his trial, although he had to wait outside because Fudge was cunning and wouldn’t allow the slightest bit of moral support for Harry. The only people he had on his side were Dumbledore and the Dursleys’ neighbour, Arabella Figg, who was a Squib that was assigned to watch over the Dursleys and Harry. Harry tried to stop himself from throwing his shoe at Percy when the tall ginger took his seat indifferently, never acknowledging Harry or the fact that _he_ was the one who’d produced the Patronus Charm. Fortunately, Dumbledore and Mrs Figg gave pretty compelling arguments, and with the help of Madam Bones’ influence, they pulled the charges on him. Harry couldn’t help the small grin that appeared on his face when he saw Fudge’s expression. The Minister looked positively enraged, his face turning purple as if he’d just swallowed a frog. Harry’s day improved greatly when he got home and found that both Sirius and Regulus were awake. The rest of the family filled them both in on what had happened during the time they were unconscious, to which the brothers listened with identical murderous looks on their faces when they realised it was all Fudge’s doing.

Sirius tried to hide his anger though, and told Marlene to prepare a party to celebrate both Harry’s birthday and his ‘victory’ upon defeating Fudge at his own game. A lot of their friends and family were invited—such as the Tonks, the Weasleys, the Malfoys, Hermione and Neville. The Lovegoods and the Diggorys were even invited as well, although both of them hadn’t said whether they were coming or not. All of the House-Elves rejoiced over the prospect of holding a party after the long somber mood. The first to respond was Tonks and her parents, plus Charlie, who said that they’d be there by dinner, and that they had their own news to announce to everyone else. The Malfoys’ and the Weasleys’ owls came around the same time, both saying that they’d arrive around dinner as well. The rest of the guests gave the same response, all of them eager to celebrate the joyous occasion together, especially when they found out the Black brothers were awake. However, the Manor’s happy atmosphere was cut short when Regulus started to cough up blood during lunch time, which led Irina to believe that even though they’d woken up, there was still a lot of healing to be done for the brothers. This was only confirmed when they saw how Sirius held back a cough, swallowing heavily as he discreetly wiped the corners of his mouth, where they could see tiny drops of blood. Marlene then made the decision that the two Black brothers could only join them for the dinner, and then they both had to go back to their resting, which meant they’d have to miss the rest of the party. Of course, the brothers argued about it vehemently.

The Lupins hastily escaped both couples to avoid getting roped into the argument, saying that they had to watch over the preparation of the party. Harry quickly followed after them, knowing that with Remus and Dorcas away, he’d end up playing referee to the couples. He was lucky that right at that moment, he heard Dorcas opening the door to their first guest. It was Ginny, who came with her father. The young girl was dropped off at the Manor because Percy was having a screaming match with _all_ of his brothers about Harry’s trial. Ron was also doing the job of consoling a sobbing Molly as he yelled at his older brother—and Arthur, wise man that he was, would prefer that his youngest didn’t have to hear the foul words her brothers threw at each other. Harry was more than glad that he had company, knowing that his Godparents would all be too busy with the party. He and Ginny agreed to babysit the children as well while the adults did their work, and Harry marvelled at how the Black children and Hero took an immediate liking toward the ginger. He knew for a fact that the children had cried _loudly_ at Hermione the first time they’d met her. The fact that Ginny got along really well with the children just earned her more brownie points in Harry’s eyes.

Harry also noticed that Ginny was _a lot_ more confident than she’d been the previous year. The girl no longer blushed at the sight of him, and was making conversation before Harry could even think of a topic. He weirdly noticed that he preferred her hair falling down her back instead of tied up in the braid she was now sporting. However, Harry had to admit that with her hair braided, he could see her face so much better, and could almost count the freckles that dusted her cheeks. It was with that thought in mind that Harry finally stopped staring at the ginger, blushing furiously as he imagined what Ron would do to him if he ever found out how Harry looked at his sister. It was partly why Harry decided to leave the children with Ginny while he grabbed some snacks, fearing that she would notice the blush he had on his face. It was a mistake though. The moment he exited the nursery, he instantly heard loud yelling from the Black couples, who apparently had moved their argument to their rooms respectively. He saw that it was already three in the afternoon, and Harry hoped that by the time the other guests started to arrive, the couples would settle their argument already.

“I didn’t know Miss Irina could scream like that,” Ginny said offhandedly as she gently pulled one of the figurines out of Hero’s mouth and replaced it with a cookie.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Harry chuckled, remembering the first time he’d heard Irina yelling at her husband, when the man took little Astrid flying in late October _._ Everyone thought Regulus had dropped the girl from the way Irina had yelled at him. “Honestly, she could outcuss Sirius when she’s pissed off. The woman may be tiny, but when given enough provocation, she can make both her husband and brother-in-law shrink in fear.”

Ginny laughed along with Harry, probably picturing the petite former nurse yelling at the two towering Purebloods. “I always thought the woman was like Healer Lupin, you know? But it seems I was wrong. I think she’s the perfect combination of both your Godmothers.”

“That’s true. It was probably why Sirius got along really well with Irina so quickly. According to Marlene, Irina is a lot like my mother was in many ways. Regulus also said that it was only because she was still a little bit wary of magic that she became reserved, because she is actually very bossy. And it’s common knowledge that Sirius and my mother had a really strong bond that came from their desire to be better siblings. Lily found an older sibling to look up to while Sirius found a younger sibling to baby.”

“So, you’re saying that Irina is a lot like the late Lily Potter? That’s interesting.”

“It is. And now that I think about it, I think I’ve heard Remus talking to Dorcas and Marlene about how _Regulus_ reminded him a lot of my father. I know it’s hard to believe, but as the oldest between all of the Marauders, who also had a younger brother, Sirius was actually the Mother Hen in the group. He fussed over _everyone_ , even when he didn’t realise that he was doing so. And James, who grew up as the center of attention, being an only child, lapped up the attention Sirius gave him, who saw James as his second chance to be an older brother.”

“When you put it that way, it does make a lot of sense,” Ginny agreed. “Don’t you think it’s funny how Regulus reminds Sirius of James, and now he’s married to a woman who is a lot like Lily?”

“Kind of,” Harry admitted. “And I guess that’s why Sirius is super protective of Regulus and Irina. Especially Regulus. I bet he doesn’t realise it, but during the Sacred meetings, whenever someone got a bit too… _aggressive_ towards Regulus, Sirius would move closer to his brother in a gesture that was both protective and threatening.”

“Hmm… Looks like you’ve been to a lot of the _supposedly_ secret Sacred meetings.” There was a small smirk on Ginny’s face, and Harry couldn’t stop himself from grinning sheepishly.

“Well, that’s what you get when you grow up with my sneaky Godfathers,” Harry chuckled. “You wouldn’t believe how many times Sirius and Remus gave me tips on how to break Hogwarts rules without getting caught.”

“Merlin, I could only imagine if it were Fred and George instead who grew up with your Godfathers. They’d be uncontrollable.”

The both of them were sharing a laugh when the door to the nursery was opened, revealing Dorcas with Draco Malfoy and Theo Nott, and Draco was carrying a giggling Lyra on his shoulders. Malfoy had asked him whether he could bring Nott along, who was staying over in his house for the summer because his father was in Azkaban due to his participation in Voldemort’s resurrection, and his mother had gone to visit her family in order to escape the reporters. Knowing how close Malfoy and Nott were, Harry understood that there was no way Malfoy would leave his friend behind, even if Harry said no. That was why he’d said yes, though it didn’t change the fact that Nott’s presence did feel a bit weird when they barely talked to each other before. Harry noticed that upon seeing him and Ginny together, Malfoy had an annoying smirk as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, while the git’s blue-eyed best friend looked a little out of place. Harry scowled in return, giving Malfoy the middle finger when Dorcas turned to pick her son up from Ginny’s lap. Letting out a small chuckle, Malfoy then lowered his sister to the ground. The little girl squealed in excitement as she waved at Payne and Astrid, with whom she shared a close relationship with ever since they first met.

“Payne! Astrid!” Lyra yelled, running toward the older girls. “Draco says it’s Harry’s party! And I gets to wear my new pretty dress! Look!”

The blonde twirled around, showing off her sparkly pink dress. Payne, the more reserved of the two Black girls, clapped her hands in excitement. Her cousin Astrid, on the other hand, exclaimed, “It’s _soooo_ pretty! And it’s _pink!_ It’s Mummy’s favourite colour!”

“It’s Uncle Reg’s favourite colour too,” Payne reminded her cousin quietly. “I heard him tell Auntie Riri that he liked to see pink on her. Especially if it’s her lon…long…” Frowning in a way that made her look incredibly like her father, she continued. “I don’t know how to say the word. But Auntie Riri blushed and then hit Uncle Reg on the arm after that.”

“Oh, I think I know _exactly_ what that word is,” Malfoy said cheekily, grinning from ear to ear. “Pretty sure it’s called _lingerie_.”

“Yes, that’s it!” Payne exclaimed, grinning as she bobbed her head up and down. “What is it though, Draco? What does that mean?”

“It’s something that adult Muggle women wear when they— “

“Draco Malfoy, if you finish that sentence, I’m going to tell your mother about this so you’ll get grounded for the rest of your _life_ ,” Dorcas warned, glaring at the Slytherin. “To be honest, with who your parents are, I’m surprised that you even know what that is.”

“Healer Lupin, I’m a _teenage boy,_ ” Malfoy said matter-of-factly, earning a snort of laughter from Nott. “When it involves _that,_ even if it’s something Muggle-related, we have the tendency to know about it. You can check with your Godson about it.”

Harry shrugged in embarrassment when Dorcas turned to look at him. The Healer shook her head in exasperation in return. “I don’t even want to know how you found out about it, Harry.”

“You’d be surprised at what us teeenage boys have found in our spare time. Right, Theo?”

“I refuse to comment,” Nott said flatly, though Harry could see he was holding back a grin.

“Malfoy, stop talking,” Harry snapped, feeling his face flush red when he heard Ginny let out a giggle, only then remembering that the redhead was there.

“I am _so_ asking my brothers about this,” Ginny said, looking mischievous. “This is blackmail material!”

“I’m going back to check the Elves’ work,” Dorcas said, rolling her eyes at the children. “The rest of the guests will arrive in an hour, I think. You four stay here and watch over the little kids until one of the Elves comes here to get you. And if the kids start asking me inappropriate things, I’ll make sure you boys don’t get the chance to experience anything related to that particular grown-up topic until you’re at least _fifty._ ”

Sharing a look of terror with Malfoy and Nott, Harry quickly said, “Fine, I’ll make sure Malfoy keeps his hole shut. I’ll even gag him, if I have to. I think Nott will back me up on that.”

“Sure. Just hand me the gag and consider it done.”

“You’re a prick, Potter,” Malfoy spat. “And Nott; didn’t know you were so kinky.”

“Auntie Doe, what is kink— “

“Boys, stop it. No innuendos and no fighting,” Dorcas warned.

“Don’t worry, Healer Lupin. I’ll make sure the three of them behave,” Ginny quipped, sending a wink toward Harry and the two Slytherins.

Dorcas smiled and patted Ginny’s head fondly. “Glad to know that at least I have you to look after the children, Gin... All right then. Have fun, kids. Bye, Hero.”

“Bye, Mummy,” the little guy replied, with a figurine stuck in his mouth as he played thumb-war with Hunter, who looked like he would cheat to win.

“You’re an arse, Malfoy,” Harry said, trying to trip him as the blond and his friend made their way across the room to sit beside Hunter and Hero.

“Pot calling the kettle black,” Malfoy replied, smirking infuriatingly. His attention was diverted however, when little Astrid suddenly plopped down on his lap. It was well-known between the Black-Lupin family and the Malfoys that the blond heir was rather fond of Regulus’ girl—much to the utmost displeasure of a certain Malfoy princess.

“Missed you, Draco!” Astrid said, pressing her face against Malfoy’s chest as she wrapped her tiny arms around Draco.

“Why, hello, Ace,” Malfoy greeted, a gentle smile on his face when Astrid giggled at the nickname Malfoy gave her. “How have you been?”

“I’m fine! Me and Mummy took Auntie Mar and Payne to go Muggle-watching, and it’s _fun!_ Do you know what Muggle-watching is, Draco? That’s what you do when you go to a Muggle place and watch all the Muggles do – _AWW!_ ”

Lyra had just pulled on Astrid’s long hair, and there was a pout on her face. “Stop talking to my Draco. He’s _my_ brother. You have Harry.”

Harry knew Hermione must be the only who had ever seen Malfoy laugh so genuinely as he shifted Astrid to the side so he could fit his sister on the other side of his lap. “Princess, Astrid’s just saying hello. It’s not her fault that she’s stuck with a nincompoop like Potter.”

“Jerk,” Harry spat, throwing a mini-Quaffle at the blond that he dodged successfully.

“That’s why you don’t need to be jealous about this. I’ll _always_ be your brother, remember? You can share me with Astrid.”

“ _But I don’t want to share you with anyone else!_ ”

“Tough luck; she already has to share her big brother with Hermione,” Ginny whispered to Harry, which made the Gryffindor Seeker chuckle.

Deciding that he’d help Malfoy, just so he could lord it over the blond’s big head, Harry beckoned Astrid to come to him instead. “Come here, Astrid. You can tell Ginny about how Marlene was freaking out over a ride on the London Eye.”

“I haven’t finished telling Draco about it,” the girl argued.

“You can do my hair while you talk,” Ginny persuaded. It made the younger Black grin and she toddled her way toward her box of scrunchies and hairclips before dragging them all to Ginny.

“Can I help?” Payne asked, her sweet mannerism nothing like Sirius or Marlene.

“Of course, sweetie,” Ginny said, gently patting the girl’s cheek, which made her smile.

“Thank you, Gin—“

  
_“HARRY, HUNTER BITED ME!”_

“Hunter, we’ve agreed that you can’t bite people when you’re losing,” Harry said, sighing as he crawled over toward the two boys, positioning himself between the two to prevent them from fighting.

“But Dad says it’s okay,” Hunter argued, pouting in a way that the adults often remarked as the patented Black-pout.

“Well, your father is a horrid, over-grown baby,” Harry replied with a roll of his eyes. “Now, apologise to Hero or I’ll tell your mother.”

Sighing dramatically, Hunter then gave his hand to Hero, who took it easily as if he wasn’t about to jump his slightly older best friend. “I’m sorry I bited you, Hero. Still friends?”

“Of course!” Hero replied, an ear-splitting grin on his face as he hugged Hunter.

“Dear Salazar; Potter’s turned into a Weasley with all these little buggers!” Malfoy said to Nott, who laughed in return. Not wanting to be left out of the joke, Lyra laughed as well, chanting ‘Weasley’ over and over again as she pointed at Harry.

“You’re lucky you have your sister with you, Malfoy,” Harry said with a fake smile. “If you hadn’t, I’d have bashed your head in.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Leave him alone, Malfoy,” Ginny intervened, before Harry could sneak a punch at Malfoy’s pointy face, careful not to hurt Lyra instead when her cowardly brother used her body as a shield. The blond took a glance at Ginny and gave an infuriating grin.

“Oh, look, Potter! You’ve got yourself a gilfriend!”

When Ginny blushed furiously, in much the same way that Ron would, Harry was sure his own face was just as red as hers. Giving Malfoy a two-finger salute, the girl then said, “You’re an absolute menace, Malfoy. I have no idea how Hermione puts up with you.”

At this, Malfoy sobered up. Even though he didn’t blush, Harry knew that the blond was embarrassed. With a smirk of his own, Harry jumped at the chance to tease the Slytherin. “Wow, Malfoy. You’re blushing. I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I am _not,_ ” Malfoy spat, scowling murderously. “Malfoys don’t blush.” This only made Harry smirk wider. Fortunately for him, but not for Draco though, Ginny and Nott decided to join him.

“Ooh, you _so_ are blushing, mate,” Nott quipped with a mischievous grin. “No offence to you, Weaslette, but don’t you agree that Draco has turned just as red as your hair?”

“He sure has,” Ginny replied, chuckling evilly.

“You prats are so full of shite. I am _not_ blushing!”

“But you are!”

“I’m not!

“Yes, you are!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are—“

“What are you doing harrassing my boyfriend?” a familiar voice said, sounding both amused and snotty. As if on cue, the four teenagers in the room turned toward the door and found Hermione Granger standing there with a small grin. While Draco’s face broke into a wide grin, the other three froze as if they’d been hit by the Full Body-Bind Curse.

_“Hermione!”_ the three little girls yelled as they all rushed toward the bookworm, wrapping their arms around her legs.

“Hello, girls,” Hermione greeted, lowering herself so she could return the hug, before turning her attention back to Malfoy. “Well? Anyone going to explain? Draco?”

“It’s nothing, Granger,” Malfoy replied smoothly, the look on his face softening as he waved at her to come in and sit beside him. “We’re just being friendly, believe it or not.”

“Hmm… I don’t really believe that, but if you say so. I’m glad all of you are getting along though.”

“Anything for you, bookworm.”

Then, as if it was something that they did regularly, which seemed to be true from the way they did it, they both leaned toward each other for a kiss, earning giggles and squeals from the little girls while the little boys made faces and gagging noises. And with that, the three other teenagers snapped out of their shock.

_“What the hell!”_ Nott yelped loudly.

“You’re _finally_ together? _”_ Ginny exclaimed, just as shocked.

“BOYFRIEND?” Harry yelled.

The Gryffindor Seeker had to stop himself from physically wiping Malfoy’s smirk off his face when the prat aimed it at him, once he’d stopped kissing Hermione. “Oh, right. We forgot to tell you that we’re together now.”

“Since when?” Harry, Ginny and Nott chorused.

“After the Yule Ball,” Hermione admitted quietly, looking like she felt guilty for not telling. “We didn’t plan to keep it a secret from all of you, honest. It just, with everything that happened, slipped our minds.”

“Yeah,” the blond Slytherin cofirmed, shrugging. “It’s entirely your fault anyway, Potter. Everyone’s attention was on you and we’d _hate_ taking the limelight from you. I personally prefer to keep everything between me and Hermione. But not her. She insisted on telling all of her friends _and_ my friends about this. And you know she’s basically a saint. So we agreed to look for the right time to tell you all about our relationship.”

“Wow, mate. You truly have it _bad_ for her,” Nott said, looking thoroughly amazed.

Smirking as he leaned in to steal a kiss from Hermione, Malfoy said, “Why, of course, Nott. It’s not my fault that I have such a _perfect_ girlfriend.”

* * *

Lucius hated parties. Of _any_ kind.

Well, except for his wedding reception.

That was the best party he’d ever attended in his entire life.

He still remembered the day when he’d married Narcissa. The woman who still took his breath away, even after twenty years of being married. Like most Pureblood families, Lucius’ bride had been determined way before he was even born. When he was old enough to understand the meaning of marriage, he was introduced to Andromeda Black, the second-born of the three Black sisters, at his eleventh birthday party. A few months his junior, the middle-child of Cygnus and Druella Black soon became a good friend of his. He would even say Andromeda, fondly dubbed as Andy by Lucius and her sisters, was his first and only friend. At the time, Lucius thought that if he had to marry someone he wasn’t in love with, he was glad that he was marrying his best friend. True, he wouldn’t have experienced the kind of passionate love that he’d once heard about during one of his parents’ parties. But at least he and Andromeda cared about each other enough, and would love each other as friends would.

Everything changed in his third year, when he first noticed Andromeda’s younger sister.

_(“Well, well, well,” Andromeda said in barely repressed amusement, when Lucius kept on staring at Narcissa. “Careful there, best friend. I think your eyes are going to jump out of their sockets.”)_

Everyone always talked about how Cygnus and Druella were really blessed for having such beautiful daughters. People argued all the time about which one of the sisters was the most beautiful. But Lucius? He always knew that Narcissa was the most beautiful of all the Black sisters. Ever since her Sorting, Lucius always found himself watching her whenever they were in the same room together. He remembered the bedtime stories his late Grandmother Helena used to tell him when he was a child, before she passed away when he was only five years old. She always told him of a story about how the devil had once fallen in love with an angel. Every time he looked at the youngest Black sister, Lucius would think how apt it was that his name had a relation with the Muggle devil Lucifer, yet he’d fallen in love with the perfect epitome of an angel. But he soon remembered his betrothal to Andromeda, and it took everything in him to pretend that he felt nothing when it was revealed that Narcissa was to marry her cousin Sirius.

He was almost seventeen when he first found out about Andromeda’s relationship with the Muggle-born Ted Tonks. He was doing his Prefect rounds when he saw Andromeda and Tonks sneaking out of an empty classroom, both going their separate ways after sharing a lovely kiss, oblivious to Lucius’ presence. At first, he was enraged and disgusted that someone who was born into the most elite Pureblood family in the world was eyeing some pathetic _Mudblood._ But after a while, after spending a couple of months before the summer watching the two of them stealing glances at each other, after watching the both of them sharing a laugh, Lucius found himself _envying_ the relationship they had. He wanted that too. He wanted that kind of relationship to share with someone he loved— _with Narcissa._ That was the moment he realised why Andromeda had never said anything about him falling for her sister.

For she, too, had found someone else to love in the way that most Purebloods weren’t privileged to.

He’d just turned twenty-one on the day of his official engagement with Andromeda. He remembered that day really well. He remembered how he’d sat in the living room of Cygnus’ home, remembered how the Black partriarch and his wife were shrieking at the note their middle-child had left them, remembered how he’d both envied and rejoiced when he heard about how Andromeda had run away to elope with Tonks. He remembered everything that day, because that was the day things started to turn out for the better for him. Because that was the day when his betrothed changed from Andromeda to Narcissa.

The day that he knew he would do everything in his power to ensure the happiness and safety of the love of his life.

“There you are, best friend,” Andromeda Tonks' voice said, snapping him out of his reverie. Lucius had escaped the festivities of the party by going for a walk around the Manor’s vast garden. He then went to take a rest in Irina Black’s greenhouse, smoking his one of his outrageously expensive cigars.

“Hello, Andy,” Lucius greeted, taking one last drag of his cigar before Vanishing it with his wand.

“What are you doing hiding here in the greenhouse, Lord Sulky? The party isn’t fancy enough for you?” Andromeda teased as she took a seat beside Lucius.

“Ha-ha-ha,” Lucius remarked dryly, rolling his eyes. “Very funny, Andy. What are you doing here yourself? Why aren’t you in there?”

“Cissy saw you sneaking out. She would have gone after you herself, but she was in the middle of nagging Tonks into wearing the old family heirloom for her wedding tiara. I’ve been trying to make Tonks agree to it, so it’s just perfect that Cissy is doing it now. I went to get you instead. We both know how much of a party-pooper you are.”

“Ah, I see... I thought you were getting sick of your daughter smooching her brand new fiancé.”

Lucius couldn’t help his grin when he saw how Andromeda scowled at the mention of her daughter's antics. “ _Ugh_ , it’s like I never taught her anything about public displays of affection. I wouldn’t even be surprised if one day she found herself choking on Charlie’s tongue.”

“At this point, it’s a wonder his tongue hasn’t fallen off yet,” Lucius mused with a grin. “I think Molly is very close to hexing her own son at this point.”

Both of them sobered up a little as they remembered how the Weasley martriarch hadn't seemed like the lively woman they all knew. Lucius had heard from his son about the domestic feud the Weasley family had going on amongst themselves. He wouldn’t admit it, but he took a pity on them. He couldn’t imagine going head to head with his own children. If there was anyone that he loved more than Narcissa, it would be Draco and Lyra. It would break his heart and his spirit entirely if his children hated him. After all, he wasn’t as unfeeling as people always assumed him to be.

“I never thought our lives would lead to this, you know?” Andromeda said. “From the moment I decided to leave my family behind for Ted, I thought I’d lost everything. I didn’t think I would find such a big family in the form of Sirius, Remus, Regulus, Narcissa and you.”

Lucius nodded, thinking of how good his life had been for the past fifteen years. “I know. I never thought I’d be defecting the Dark Lord to join you do-gooders. Not until hell freezes over, at least.”

“Are you ever worried?” Andromeda asked. And for the first time that night, or since he’d finally got back on good terms with her, Lucius truly looked into Andromeda’s eyes. They were black, like her older sister’s and mother’s. But, unlike the two older women, Andromeda’s eyes were lit with warmth and love, not hatred and anger.

“I’m _terrified_ ,” Lucius admitted in a small voice. “When I went to save your cousin, I’d guessed that there would be consequences. I was ready to face them. I was ready to _die_ for what I did. But then they _tortured_ Draco, and that was when I realised what I’d really done. You have no idea, Andy, how my son would scream himself hoarse every night because of his nightmares. And every single time, as I rocked him gently in my arms, offering him the safety that came too late, I felt like I’d failed him. I’d failed at protecting him. Even after almost two years, it still haunts him. He suffered so much at Pettigrew’s hands, and it’s all because of _me._ ”

“It’s not your fault, Lucius. It’s _never_ your fault,” Andromeda said firmly. “I mean, Draco still looks at you as if you’re God. He still practically worships the ground you walk on. He _loves_ you, Lucius. If it’s ever anyone’s fault, it would be Pettigrew himself. Every time I hear about what happened to Draco, I feel like going on a hunt for Pettigrew myself so I can make his death a slow and painful one. No-one is allowed to torture my nephew and get away with it.”

“When I get my hands on Pettigrew, he’ll wish he’d never been born,” Lucius snarled. He pictured all the horrible things he would do to the psychotic freak, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that the thought made him smile.

“Oh, I’d like to see you try, Malfoy,” a voice said from behind the small water fountain not far from where Lucius and Andromeda were.

The two best friends turned around in unison, their wands raised in the direction of the voice. When Pettigrew’s form was slowly revealed, Lucius didn’t hesitate to shoot a hex at the deranged man. With worrying ease, Pettigrew merely deflected it with a wave of the wand in his silver hand. The spell hit the glass walls of the greenhouse, and would have hit Andromeda if the witch hadn’t erected a powerful Protection Charm. In the end, it hit the water fountain, blowing it into smithereens. Lucius only had a split second to protect himself and Andromeda from the flying debris of the water fountain, waving his wand in a slashing motion to crush the bigger pieces into smaller parts. By the time he was done, he found that Pettigrew was no longer alone, and that Andromeda had shot a powerful hex at Pettigrew, who was forced to hide behind his four companions because he wasn’t quick enough this time to deflect it. As Lucius fired hex after hex at his former comrades, he was glad that people back in the Manor had heard the commotion in the greenhouse. This was confirmed when he heard the familiar voices of the Black brothers and Remus Lupin coming toward him, all three of them firing hexes as well.

Lucius felt himself filling with adrenaline as he fought side-by-side with Andromeda, and he couldn’t help it when a small grin began to grow on his face. It almost felt like he was a teenager again, duelling against some pesky Gryffindors with Andromeda helping him. The gravity of what was actually happening wasn’t lost on him, but as he glanced at Andromeda, who looked like she was having the same thoughts as him as she winked at him, it was easy for him to pretend that he wasn’t fighting the Dark Lord’s henchmen. Even when the Black brothers and Lupin had joined them, standing next to Andromeda as they too attacked Pettigrew and his companions, Lucius felt oddly free and relaxed. For the first time in years, he let out a carefree laugh as he Stunned Pettigrew, and Lucius felt truly and intensely happy. He was still laughing when the younger Black was tying up the filthy bastards with an enchanted rope, while his brother was interrogating Pettigrew.

“Lucius, are you alright?” Andromeda asked, looking extremely worried after he’d been laughing for almost a full minute.

“I’m fine,” Lucius said, as his laughter turned into chuckles. “It’s just… I felt like a bit nostalgic, that’s all.”

“Malfoy, did you just _giggle_?” the witch gasped, shocked. “Merlin’s beard, _you did_!”

Shrugging, Lucius said, “I’m old, Andy. I’m allowed to do whatever I want once in a while. Someone as young as you wouldn’t understand.”

In an instant, Andromeda’s cheeky grin faded into a pout. “You’re only _five months_ older than me!”

“Yeah, but when you were just born, I could already sit. Just deal with it, Andy. I’m older than you are. Some day, you’ll have to bury me.”

“I’m going to bury you _right now,_ you insolent bas—“

“As adorable as it is to watch you two bicker,” Lupin’s voice interrupted them, sounding amused. “Can we get some help here? Can one of you go get Kingsley and ask him to bring some of the on-duty Aurors here? He’s training the new Aurors tonight, so we can’t send him a Patronus lest someone finds out about this.”

“I’ll do it,” Andromeda volunteered. “Do you need Moody as well?”

“That’ll be great. Thanks, Andy.”

Lucius watched Andromeda running back toward the Manor, where he saw that everyone else was trying to go to the greenhouse, only to be stopped by her. Turning his attention back to Pettigrew and his companions, he began to listen to the interrogation. None of their captives were willing to talk about how they’d managed to break into the Manor. They all merely smirked at the older Black, whose jaw was clenched so tight with barely repressed rage, Lucius feared it might snap. He had just decided that he would take over the interrogation himself, thinking of all the Dark spells he’d cast on Pettigrew to make him talk, when he felt a hand grab his right shoulder tightly. It was Regulus. Much to Lucius’ horror, the younger Black’s nose was bleeding, and he had turned three shades lighter than Lucius’ already pale complexion. It didn’t take him long to realise that the little action they’d just had was too much for Regulus’ barely recovering health.

Judging from the way that Sirius was swaying, Lucius could tell that he was also fighting to stay conscious. And it seemed that Lucius wasn’t the only one who’d noticed that.

“Oh, will you look at that! Are you going to faint, Padfoot?” Pettigrew said mockingly. “Aw, poor you. You haven’t truly recovered, have you?”

“Of course he hasn’t. That’s the downside of being part-fae, I guess,” a Death Eater named Travers replied. “And _whoop!_ Down his brother goes!”

True enough, Regulus’ eyes rolled up to the back of his head as he lost his consciousness. If he wasn’t standing right next to Regulus, Lucius wouldn’t have been quick enough to catch him from falling headfirst onto the ground. Lucius only had chance to warn Lupin to catch Sirius when his best friend fainted as well. And with Sirius being unconscious, the Spell that kept Pettigrew and his cronies tied was lifted. Waving smugly at Lucius and Lupin, the five of them began to Transform into rats, led by Pettigrew who took his usual form. The blond cursed under his breath as he watched Pettigrew and the other four Death Eaters start to dig down into the ground before disappearing from view.

“That rat bastard _dug_ his way in!” Lucius exclaimed. “That must be how he got in. Black didn’t put Animagi Repelling Charms around the perimeter, did he?”

“Well, you know both Sirius and Black are Animagi,” Lupin replied matter-of-factly. Lucius could only nod and huff in response.

“You all have to move out then,” the blond said. “It won’t be safe for all of you to stay here. Obviously, one of the Death Eater Sacreds spilled the beans about the location of the Black Manor. I’m surprised they didn’t do it sooner.”

“You’re right… I’ll try to talk the brothers into moving out. It won’t be easy, though. You know how vulnerable they are without the Tree. But I’ll try. It’s either that, or getting the rest of our family slaughtered.”

“I’ll help in any way I can. In the meantime, we have to get these two inside. We need your wife to check on them.”

Together, both Lucius and Lupin carefully Levitated the brothers back into the Manor, where everyone had been waiting restlessly for them. Healer Lupin didn’t waste any time and immediately began her examination on her friends, once Lucius and Lupin had brought them into the closest room they found. The blond felt his heart clench when he saw the terrified looks on Marlene and Irina’s faces, both of them holding onto each other as Harry rubbed their shoulders in an attempt to comfort them. The guests all looked shocked, all of them struck dumb, even when Andromeda had arrived with Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mad-Eye Moody. Andromeda, who had always been gifted in Healing even though she didn’t have any training, immediately helped the petite Healer, both of them muttering incantations that sounded unfamiliar to Lucius’ ears. Upon finding out that Pettigrew and his companions had escaped, Moody let out a long string of curses that caused Shacklebolt to send a reprimanding glare in the older Auror’s direction—although the former Head Auror didn’t seem to care about it. The two of them then assigned the Aurors that came with them to start on a hunt for the five escapees, trusting Tonks to lead them on that mission.

“It’s begun, hasn’t it, Father,” a voice said from beside him, surprising Lucius, even though he knew it could only be his son.

“What is it, Draco?” Lucius asked without looking, too busy watching Lupin discussing some kind of a plan with Shacklebolt about moving the whole family out of the Manor.

“The War,” Draco answered calmly. “This is it, isn’t it? We’re looking at the dawn of the War.”

Finally turning to his son, Lucius noted not for the first time that his son, who used to sit on his lap as he told him stories about the Three Brothers, had grown so much and so quickly in the past two years since he’d been tortured. Draco was almost as tall Lucius was now, and his grey eyes, so much like Lucius’ own grey ones, looked older than they were supposed to be. It hurt Lucius to think that _this_ was the world he’d brought his children into. A world torn apart with war and hatred. A world where he, no matter what Andromeda told him, had failed to protect his son. But Lucius swore, on his life and his ancestors’ life before him, that he would _never_ let any harm fall on any of his children ever again. Not as long as he was alive to make sure of it. He would gladly lay down his life for his family, something that no one in the long history of Malfoys had ever done before. Lucius would be the first Malfoy to fight for the Light, _and he was fucking proud of it._

Embracing his son, Lucius then said, “Yes, Draco. I’m afraid we are.”

“Will you let me fight with you?” Draco asked, looking both determined and hopeful. “I can fight, Father. I can help you.”

Smiling, the older Malfoy surprised his son when he hugged him. And as he lovingly stroked his son’s back, Lucius lied for the first time to Draco.

“Of course, son. I wouldn’t want anyone else to keep me safe.”

_(I’m sorry, but I have to do this. I have to.)_

Because there was no way he’d risk his son’s safety.


	4. A New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone in Harry's year knew that their Fifth Year wouldn't be anything like their previous school years.

A Prefect. Ron could hardly believe it.

Since before he could really understand what it meant, Ron had always known that becoming a Prefect was a prestigious honour. Except for Fred and George, everyone in his family had all been Prefects. His parents were Prefects, and that was important because that was how they'd gotten together. If that hadn't happened, Ron and his siblings wouldn’t have been born. Bill, the perfect child in the family, had probably had his name engraved on a badge since he was born. Even rebellious Charlie was a Prefect too, and a very popular one among the students. Ron had no doubt that if Percy—that prickly _arsehole—_ hadn’t gotten the badge, the third Weasley child would have definitely jumped off the Astronomy tower. If it hadn’t been for their detention record, Ron was sure that somehow, _both_ of his twin brothers would have gotten the badge too. And even though she was younger than him, Ron could already tell that come her fifth year, Ginny would be also become a Prefect. The only person he never thought would ever be a Prefect was himself.

And then _voila!_ He found the shiny badge in the post, along with the list for his school books.

Ron was in his room when the post came, and he had been in there for half an hour already. He was still staring at the badge in his hand when he vaguely heard the fireplace downstairs flare to life, and Harry’s voice rang loud and clear all over the Burrow. It took him a while to process that his best friend had visited him, and when Harry came barging into his room, with Ginny tailing behind him, Ron could only stare dumbly at his best friend, still in shock. Ginny was the first to notice the badge, and with eyes almost as wide as saucers, she too could only stare at Ron in disbelief. The ginger found it a little funny that Harry didn’t immediately notice the badge in Ron’s hand. After all, the bloke was a bit like a Niffler—he was easily attracted to shiny things. Ron often joked about it with Malfoy, saying that _that_ was the reason why Harry made it as a Seeker, and not because he was a brilliant flyer.

“Did you get it?” Harry yelled. “ _Please,_ tell me that you got it. I know the other one is Hermione, and I’m only hoping that my other best friend got—“

Harry’s eyes finally zeroed in on the badge and for a split second, the Seeker was struck dumb. But then his eyes widened to epic proportions, and a huge grin bloomed on his face as he cheered loudly, his fists punching the air. Ron was rather taken aback, expecting Harry to be upset that Dumbledore had chosen _Ron_ as Prefect instead of him. Frowning, he couldn’t help himself when he asked his friend about it. “So, you’re okay about this? That I got the badge and not you?”

“Are you kidding me?” Harry said, smiling as he took a seat beside Ron on his bed. “You _do_ remember who my Godfather is, right? Sirius would probably _disown_ me if I ever became a Prefect.”

“But Profess– I mean, Auror Lupin was one. Heck, your mother was a Prefect too!”

“She was also a Head Girl, actually. And my father was Head Boy.”

_“Your parents were Heads?”_ Ginny exclaimed, which made both Ron and Harry remember that the girl was still there.

“Yep,” Harry answered, popping the ‘p’. He scooted to the side, patting the spot next to him for Ginny as he continued to speak. “Sirius told me that Dad was the only student in over _five centuries_ to get Head Boy without ever being a Prefect. He reckoned it was because Dad often took over Remus’ work during the full moon.”

“Stop it. You haven’t really answered my question,” Ron said, cutting off Ginny’s words. “Why are you so…so…”

“Supportive?” Harry supplied, to which Ron replied with a nod of his head. In return, the Seeker shrugged, looking a little contemplative. “Well, when you’re raised by people like Sirius and Remus, you’ll learn that being responsible for a badge isn’t all that cool, you know? I mean, it _does_ come with a lot of responsibilities. And I’ve got enough to worry about already.”

Ron knew Harry was right. What with the attacks sent to his family, and his name being smeared on a daily basis on the front page of the Daily Prophet, the last thing Harry needed was to watch over delinquents who got out of bed after curfew. Still though, he couldn’t help but to feel bad about it. Ron was never as smart as Harry, let alone Malfoy or Hermione. He was the _spare son_ after all. He had to make sure. He couldn’t afford losing his best friend over something as petty as a stupid Prefect badge.

“So, you’re _really_ okay?” Ron asked one more time. “Like, it doesn’t bother you that I—“

“Ron, if you ask me that one more time, I’m going to punch you,” Harry drawled monotonously, which eerily reminded Ron of Malfoy. It brought a smile to his face though.

“I’m sorry. I just… I had to make sure. The last person in my family to get a badge was Percy, and… Well, you know what happened.”

“I don’t mean to offend you, but Percy’s a prick. We all know that,” Harry said. “You’re not like him, Ron. You’re not like Percy.”

“Harry’s right,” Ginny added, and Ron felt his vision going blurry when his sister reached out to hold his hand. “You’re a much better person that Percy will ever be. There’s a reason you’re my favourite brother, you know?”

Ron smiled, caressing Ginny’s knuckle with his thumb. “Don’t let Bill, Charlie and the twins hear you, sis. They’d flip if they ever found out.”

“Then we’ll have to keep this a secret. Between us,” Ginny replied, giving the older Weasley a wink which made Ron laugh.

“Right. Now that we have this settled, let’s tell everyone else,” Harry said, beaming like a child at Christmas. Ron bit back a laugh when he saw the startstruck look Ginny gave Harry, and quietly followed the two of them downstairs.

When Ron, Harry and Ginny reached the dining room to tell the rest of the Weasleys about Ron’s becoming a Prefect, they found that Malfoy and Hermione were there too, both of them holding their own badges. When Molly’s eyes caught the badge in Ron’s hand, she let out a girlish squeal that sounded so much like Ginny’s, and practically pushed the twins out of her way to give her youngest son a hug. She then beckoned her husband to congratulate their son as well, and when Ron looked at his father, he thought he’d never seen him so happy. Ever since the family’s big fight with Percy, it was the first time in weeks that Ron had seen such bright smiles on his parents’ faces. It was really refreshing. His brothers then took turns to congratulate him, and Ron didn’t even mind when the twins teased him a little bit. When his parents offered to buy him a new broom, Ron began to cry. He knew how tight money was for his family. It meant a great deal to him when his parents offered it.

The next ones to congratulate him were Hermione and Malfoy, the first one giving him a hug while the latter shook his hand. It turned out that Hermione had Flooed straight to Malfoy Manor when she got her Prefect badge, eager to find out whether her boyfriend had gotten it as well or not. The both of them then Flooed Harry about it, at the same time to check whether he’d gotten the badge. But then Harry said no, and the three of them discussed who else between the five Gryffindor boys in their year would have gotten it. After they settled on Ron or Dean Thomas, the three of them agreed that it could only be Ron. Harry decided that he’d go to the Burrow to ask Ron about it, and if Harry didn’t come back after five minutes, then Hermione and Malfoy would come after him to congratulate Ron. When the agreed five minutes passed and Harry didn’t return, the young couple Flooed to the Burrow, but not before promising Narcissa that they would go out for lunch with the whole Malfoy family _and_ the Grangers too.

“Why were you so sure that it would be me though?” Ron asked, as they all sat down to Molly’s special breakfast that she’d whipped up to celebrate Ron’s achievement. “I mean, I’m pretty sure Dean’s smarter than me.”

It was Malfoy who gave his answer first.

“Weasley, you’re not dumb,” the blond said, his etiquette flawless even as he spooned ice cream into his mouth. “You’re just really lazy, and have little to no motivation at all. And I mean this as respectfully as possible.”

“ _Draco,_ ” Hermione sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose tiredly. She flashed an apologetic look at Ron’s family, who didn’t seem to know how they should react to Malfoy’s assessment.

Draco, for his part, didn’t falter. He did, however, flash the same apologetic look to Ron’s family, especially to his parents. “I don’t mean to offend anyone, but you know I’m right about this. No one stupid can play chess like he does. Ergo, Weasley– eh, I mean, _Ron_ is actually very smart when he puts his mind to it. I may not like him, but I do respect him.”

“Wow, thank you, Malfoy,” Ron said dryly, rolling his eyes even though he knew there was a small smile on his face. “You have no idea how much your respect means to me.”

“You’re most welcome,” Malfoy replied, smirking so arrogantly, Ron was tempted to _physically_ wipe the smirk off of that cunning face.

“We’ve been trying to tell Ron that for years, you know,” Bill said. “I can’t believe it took Malfoy for him to finally believe it.”

“Yeah, can’t believe Ronniekins believes Malfoy more than us—his _family,_ ” Fred added, looking mock-hurt. “ _The betrayal!_ ”

“Not only has he become a Prefect, he believes Malfoy more than us,” George joined in. He held a hand to the center of his chest dramatically as he exclaimed, _“_ Oh no, my heart just _can’t_ take this!”

“Your heart is on the left side, stupid,” Ron said, feeling his ears flushing red.

“Gods, he _knows_ biology too! Isn’t Ronald _just_ the smartest?” Charlie butted in, causing Ginny and Tonks to break out into manic cackles like the absolute witches they were.

“Shut _up!_ ” Ron exclaimed, but even he couldn’t hide his smile any longer. Sneaking a pretend glare at Malfoy, he said, “This is all your fault, you git. My own siblings are turning against me.”

Draco shrugged. “Well, you betrayed them for me first, Weasley. So, technically it’s _your_ fault.”

“Watch out, Hermione. Ron’s going to steal your boyfriend,” Harry quipped, which brought another round of laughter that everyone joined in with this time.

Ron might end up becoming the butt of the joke throughout the breakfast that was meant to celebrate his becoming a Prefect, but he was prefectly fine with it. As long as he could see his family laugh again, then he was fine getting teased by them.

* * *

Theodore Nott loved Draco Malfoy.

Like the all the novels with the cliché plotline that his sister-in-law loved to read, Theo was in love with his best friend.

Theo had known Draco for as long as he could remember. The two boys grew up together, what with the sort-of friendship Lucius Malfoy had with Adrian Nott out of all the other Death Eaters. Even when they were only five years old, Theo had always thought of Draco as an invincible being that would always be there for him, who would always protect Theo from his malicious older brothers. Being the youngest of five brothers, Theo was always bullied by them. It was Draco who would stand up for him, glaring at the four older and bigger Nott boys in a way that reminded everyone of his father. The blond was only two weeks older than Theo, but he’d never failed to be Theo’s hero. There was also the fact that Draco had always been taller than him, bigger than him, and smarter than him. As the years passed, he’d become Draco’s shadow, always following the blond around dutifully. Theo didn’t mind though. He’d never liked the spotlight. That was something that Draco liked. As long as he was allowed to be close to Draco all the time, Theo wouldn’t even care if the whole world never saw him.

At least Draco did. And that was more than enough for him.

He was only seven years old when he fell for his best friend, even though he hadn’t known what love was back then. His brother Travis had locked him up in a chest their father owned. Theo didn’t know how long he was in there. He just sat in the dark quietly, the whole time wishing that someone would notice that he was gone. He didn’t dare to yell for help, fearing that his brothers would hurt him even more, and then his father would reprimand him for acting like a baby. When the chest was finally opened, he found Draco’s grey eyes looking at him in worry, before looking downright enraged. As the blond summoned one of his Elves to take care of Theo, Draco didn’t waste any time and marched right into Adrian’s office. According to Theo’s mother, Draco threw quite the tantrum about how Theo was being treated horribly and that no-one _cared_ about it. It took Lucius promising his son that he would personally watch over Theo’s well-being for Draco to calm down. By then, Adrian’s office looked like a storm had swept through it, and both Adrian and Lucius seemed to be mildly terrified of Draco. Years had passed, and no-one in the Nott household could forget that day.

Since that day, Theo practically worshiped the ground Draco walked on.

But as Theo watched Draco kiss Hermione Granger sweetly on the lips, his right hand gently cradling the girl’s head whilst his left wrapped itself around her waist, he knew that there was no way in hell he could ever have a place in Draco’s heart; at least not the same way that the blond’s place was etched so deeply in Theo’s. Draco was part-Veela, and judging by the way he would do practically anything for Granger, Theo could tell that the Gryffindor princess was _it_ for his blond friend. Theo might not be as smart as the besotted couple, but he was intelligent enough to know about the nature of a fae. He knew that there was no separating a male fae from his mate. At least, that was what he’d learned when he tried to find out whether he had a chance to be someone that was more than a friend for Draco. There was no chance, of course. No matter how much he loved his best friend, it didn’t matter because Draco _didn’t_ love him. But that was okay. Theo loved Draco enough to keep quiet about his feelings for his friend, as long as it made Draco happy.

“Scoot over, Nott _,_ ” a voice said, snapping Theo out of his reverie. Turning to the side, he found that Blaise had thrown himself down beside him.

They were sitting at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, having just arrived moments before. Theo had gotten off the train with Draco and Blaise, like they had been doing since their second year. Blaise was the first one to leave them, going toward Daphne Greengrass whom he had been seeing since the Yule Ball. Theo let out a chuckle as Draco yelled out some insults toward Blaise when he kissed Daphne, to which the part-Italian merely replied with his middle-finger, without breaking the kiss. The two Slytherins left their best friend then, knowing that they would see Blaise in the Great Hall anyway. But the moment Draco’s eyes found Granger’s bushy-haired figure in the throng of Gryffindors, the blond wordlessly ditched Theo so that he could greet his girl. Theo tried hard to ignore the gripping pain in his heart as he went to the Slytherin table— _alone._ He tried to push the ugly thoughts in his head that told him that no matter what he did, his friends wouldn’t even give a damn if he was found dead in a ditch some day.

“ _And_ you’re doing it again,” Blaise said in a singsong tone.

Cocking his eyebrows, Theo said, “What am I doing, Blaise?”

Blaise shrugged, sucking on a Liquorice Wand obnoxiously like the git he was. “You know. Gazing at Draco from afar like a lovesick maiden. Seriously, mate, it’s _sad_ how you still pine after him _._ ”

“I do not,” Theo replied easily, having told the lie enough times to himself for it to come out naturally without much coaxing. It was a rather convincing lie, if only Blaise wasn’t so bloody observant and skeptical.

“Yes, of course. And I’m Gellert Grindelwald,” Blaise replied dryly. When he noticed the way Theo scowled at him, Blaise sighed heavily. He put down his Liquorice Wand on an empty plate and looked at Theo seriously. “Fine. We’ll talk about it just this once, okay? I don’t care how you feel about our conversation, and I’m perfectly fine if we never talk about this again. But _I know_ , Theo. I’ve always known. Even before we became friends. And frankly, it’s hard _not_ to notice when you follow him around like a lost puppy.”

“I don't know what you're talking about," Theo countered calmly, even though he felt like punching Blaise. "Draco and I have been friends since we born. I don't have feelings for him. He's my best friend. He's like a brother to me."

Other people would have left it there. Not only had Theo gotten very good at lying about his feelings for Draco, but most people feared him for being the child of a Sacred member. His family might not be as powerful as the Malfoys, but they still managed to instill some sort of fear into the hearts of other, common Pureblood families. After all, it _was_ his great-grandfather Catankerous Nott who first wrote the book about the Sacreds. But apparently Blaise hadn’t gotten the memo of the significance of the Nott family, because the annoying pillock confidently continued to talk.

"I told you I don't care about what you think, right? So, I'm just going to ignore it and get to my point. Theodore, you _have_ to get over Draco. As much as this pains me to say, because I quite like our exclusive trio, I feel like you should distance yourself a bit from him. And maybe start seeing someone? Just to get over him. I heard Rosier likes blokes."

"Fuck off, Blaise. I'm not going to stop being friends with Draco just because you think I have feelings for him. I _don't_ , alright? And I don't like blokes either."

"That's not my point. You don't like blokes, fine. I don't care. But you can't keep pining after your best friend. It's only going to hurt you. And as sappy as this sounds, I actually don't want to see you hurt because you're in love with someone you can't have. We're all friends, remember?"

Theo knew he should just let it go. That he should just say yes so it would shut Blaise up. But he had so much in his head already, from his father getting arrested to his feelings for Draco, he just lost it. And blurted out the first thing in his head, just to hurt Blaise.

"We're not your friends, Blaise," Theo said coolly. "You're just a lonely prick whom Draco took pity on. So quit nosing about our problems and go back to your brooding."

Like Draco, Blaise was always very careful in showing his true emotions. He always wore a blank mask that flawlessly hid whatever he really felt. He was even harder to read when he was upset. And at that moment, right after Theo finished talking, Blaise's face shut down. It was completely devoid of emotion, as if Theo hadn't just hurt him. But unfortunately for him, Blaise's eyes failed to hide what he truly felt, especially for someone who knew him. And no matter what Theo had said, he _did_ know Blaise, because they _really_ were friends. He immediately felt guilty when he saw the pain in those dark eyes. Theo was going to take it all back and apologise when Blaise stood up abruptly, nearly knocking into Draco, who was standing right behind him.

"Whoa, where are you going, Blaise?" Draco asked, one hand on Blaise's shoulder to keep him steady. "The feast's about to begin."

"I don't feel well," Blaise muttered. "I think I'll head up early. Sleep it off."

"But you'll be missing dinner!" Draco said. "If you're unwell, you should eat."

Blaise shook his head and gently shrugged Draco's hand off of his shoulder. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. I'll be seeing you two prats tomorrow."

"Blaise, come on—“

But he was already walking away, ignoring Theo completely. It was understandable, though, considering what Theo had said to him. Theo was lucky that Blaise hadn't punched him in the face, because that was what Theo would have done in his shoes. Watching Blaise's retreating figure, he sullenly scooted over for Draco, who was watching him closely. Theo had no doubt that the blond knew something had happened between him and Blaise. He was way more observant than Blaise after all. But Draco, like he always did, kept quiet and didn't ask Theo about what had happened. It was both Theo’s most and least favourite thing about being friends with Draco. Most favourite because that meant Draco wouldn’t push him into talking when he didn’t want to. Least favourite because sometimes, Theo _wanted_ Draco to ask him so he wouldn’t have to feel like he was hiding something from him. This was one of those rare times that he hated Draco’s patience.

When Dumbledore introduced their new DADA professor, Theo was so hugely glad of the distraction it offered. He couldn’t care less about the professor, but when he saw the way Draco narrowed his eyes in the direction of the new professor, Theo couldn’t help but to turn his attention toward the professors’ table. Sitting in the empty seat beside Snape, where the DADA professor usually sat, was a short and stocky woman wearing the most _pink_ clothing he’d ever seen. It almost burned his eyes out just to look at her. From the stupid little bow on top of her head, the cardigan she wore over her dress, to the flats on her feet, and even her little purse—they were all garishly pink. Theo was surprised that her wand wasn’t pink. But the most outrageous thing she did was when she cut into the middle of Dumbledore’s speech, and prattled on about the Ministry-approved plans to watch over all activities at Hogwarts and the new propaganda which promoted a British wizarding world—

_“…that is fair and free from the influence of obsolete traditions and antiquated mindset of only a select few magical community that have been oppressing all of us.”_

In other words, the Ministry was announcing an all-out war against the Sacred Twenty- Eight.

Murmurs began to erupt amongst the students, especially those whose families were Purebloods, _most_ especially those whose families were part of the Sacred. It was clear to everyone that this was Fudge’s way to get back at the Black brothers for the humiliation they’d put him through. For the first time ever, the Slytherins were the ones who looked the most bothered. By the time their food had appeared, none of them really felt like eating. They didn’t know how far Umbridge, and by extension Fudge _,_ was going to go with her plan to terrorise Hogwarts, but the Slytherins knew that things weren’t looking good for them. When Theo turned to Draco to gauge his reaction, he found his best friend had a stormy look in his eyes as he gripped the fork in his hand, and his dinner had barely been touched. He was about to ask Draco what his plan was when he noticed that the rest of the Slytherins were doing the same—turning to Draco for his guidance.

At only fifteen, there were definitely other students who were older than Draco in Slytherin House. But he was a Malfoy _,_ part of the second-most powerful Pureblood family in Britain. The fact that he was directly related through his mother to the Blacks made him the undisputed leader of the Slytherins. It was customary for Slytherins, as the House with the most Pureblood children, to follow the Lex Magicae. Whenever there was a threat to the Pureblood community, everyone was bound by law to follow the child of the most powerful Pureblood family in the house. Since there were no Blacks among them, that would mean it was up to Draco to lead them all. And it looked like Draco realised this too, judging by the way he wordlessly commandeered all of the Slytherins out of the Great Hall once the feast was over. Blaise was there in the common room to greet them all, and apparently had already heard the news from Dobby, whom Draco had asked to deliver his food.

Blaise’s dark eyes found Theo’s the moment he entered the common room behind Draco. Wordlessly, Theo knew that the look in Blaise’s eyes told him that they should forget their little spat earlier and focus on the looming threat they all faced. Both of them had to support Draco on whatever he decided to do to deal with Umbridge, and they couldn’t do it if they hated each other. So, in unison, Theo and Blaise took their positions at Draco’s side. Together, like they’d always been since first year. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they looked at the mass of students before them. From first to seventh years, they all gathered around the three of them, patiently waiting for Draco’s decision. It didn’t take long before Draco spoke, a calculative look on his face.

“Almost ninety percent of us here are Purebloods,” Draco began softly. “And of that ninety percent, about half of us are part of the Sacreds. And the Ministry has decided to oppose our esteemed community, after all the support our families have given them. But you see, what the Ministry doesn’t know is that the Sacreds _are_ the Purebloods. The Sacreds are representatives of the Pureblood ideals and traditions that have been the foundation of the British magical community since the time of Merlin. And the Ministry plans to use _us,_ the future of the magical community, to break our _family_ apart. Because that’s what we are—what us Sacreds, what us _Purebloods_ are. Family.”

Everyone hummed in agreement at Draco’s words, and Theo couldn’t help but feel immensely proud of his best friend. Laying a supportive hand on Draco, he said, “We’re all with you, Draco. What do you want us to do?”

“Should we tell our parents about this? Especially those in the Sacreds?” Pansy Parkinson asked.

“I’m sure Dumbledore has informed the Black brothers, the moment he got rid of that pink menace,” Blaise answered for Draco, which the blond confirmed with a nod of his head.

“I believe so, too. And if I know my cousins well, and at this point I’m confident to say that I do, I have no doubt that the first course of action Sirius and Regulus will take is for all of us to unite. Not just us Purebloods in Slytherin. But _all_ of us Purebloods at Hogwarts.”

“You mean—“

“Yes, Pansy,” Draco said with fake-cheer, an almost cheeky grin on his face. “I want us to be _friends_ with the rest of the Houses.”


	5. The Pink Menace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Umbridge was just the worst. Enough said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my favourite chapter to write from this installment, so far. It's been a lot of fun writing about these two.  
> So, if you don't mind, I would love to know what you think about my story :D
> 
> Thanks for reading, guys! Stay safe, okay :)

In all the years Draco had known Theo, they had never fought. Not even once. And they’d been friends practically since they were born. Potter would point out that the reason they never fought was because Theo was too frightened to question anything Draco said or did. The blond had to disagree though. Unlike Nott senior, Theo could very well make his own opinions and had no problem sharing them with anyone. There had been many times in the past when Theo had told Draco off for being a prat. Begrudgingly, Draco had to admit that in a way, his friendship with Theo was a lot like Potter’s with Weasley—they completed each other like puzzle pieces. But he also felt that there was still something, or rather _someone,_ still missing from their friendship. Then they became friends with Blaise Zabini, and their duo became a trio, and Draco realised that they’d been waiting for the prick all along.

Sometimes Draco would compare their friendship with the one Sirius Black had with James Potter and Remus Lupin, but he would banish the thought as soon as it popped in his mind. It felt like a sin to compare his _evil_ Slytherin trio with the Marauders.

However, it didn’t seem that their friendship was going to last through deaths and wars the way the Marauders had. Not when Theo and Blaise would barely talk to each other unless Draco was around.

“Seriously, what the hell happened between you two?” Draco asked for what felt like the umpteenth time. “Why are you fighting?”

It was their first day back and they were on their way to their Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, and Draco had noticed the previous night, during the feast, that his best friends weren’t talking. The only time the two talked was during the meeting Draco had called for the whole of Slytherin house, when his housemates decided that they should work together with students from other houses if they wanted to stand a chance in dealing with anything Umbridge was throwing their way. But during breakfast that morning, and then throughout their morning classes, neither Theo nor Blaise would talk to each other. They wouldn’t even sit next to each other like they always had whenever they had a class with Gryffindor and Draco had taken a seat with Hermione. Now, during Snape’s class, from where he was sitting with his girlfriend, Draco saw that Theo had gone to sit with Tracey Davis while Blaise went to sit with Daphne Greengrass.

“What are you talking about?” Blaise replied in a flat tone. “Nothing’s happened. Nott and I are being perfectly civil to one another.”

“ _That’s_ the thing though,” Draco countered. “You two were never like this. Either you two were arguing over everything, calling each other names, _or_ teaming up to tease me about Hermione. So, don’t lie to me, Zabini. I _know_ something is wrong.”

“Just because you’re friends with Potter doesn’t mean you get to be as paranoid as he is, Draco,” Theo quipped, earning a scowl from Draco. “Like Blaise said; nothing’s happened.”

Draco narrowed his eyes at his friends, eyeing the both of them closely in the hopes that they would crack. Although he knew that Theo and Blaise were made of sterner stuff and weren’t easily intimidated, not even by him. Draco would have pestered them more about it, but they had arrived in front of the door to DADA classroom, along with the Ravenclaws. Umbridge was already seated at the teacher’s desk by the time they entered the room, wearing another of her ghastly pink outfits. Draco quietly led his classmates inside, going to the side of the room where the Slytherins sat while the Ravenclaws took their seats on their side of the room. He could feel Umbridge’s eyes on him when he sat down in his usual seat, and he bravely stared right back at her, unwilling to break the eye contact until she finally did to give the room a faux, cheerful smile that made her similarities to a toad even more prominent.

“Good afternoon, class!” she said when everyone had finally sat down. Draco was barely aware that Theo had taken a seat beside him while Blaise, with Daphne, was sitting behind them. He was too busy watching Umbridge’s every move.

“Good afternoon,” came the mumbled replies from a number of students.

“I didn’t know Hogwarts students these days had absolutely terrible manners,” Umbridge said condescendingly. “Apparently this class and the previous one share that in common… When I say ‘Good afternoon’, I should like you to reply ‘Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.’ Well, let’s try this again, shall we? Good afternoon, class!”

“Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,” all of the Ravenclaws and most of the Slytherins chanted back at her.

“Very good… Very well, let us begin the class. Wands away and quills out, please.”

“Definitely a boring one, she is,” Theo muttered, as he shoved his wand back inside his bag and pulled out his quill, ink and parchment. His sentiment was shared by most of the other students. Everyone knew that a class that required them to not use their wands was usually boring.

By the time everyone had pulled out their quill, ink and parchment, no one was holding a wand except for Draco. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Theo, Draco would no doubt have gotten in trouble for not having his stuff on his table when Umbridge settled her gaze back on him. There was an unreadable look in her eyes when they landed on the wand in his hand, and Draco tightened his hold around it, even when Umbridge turned away from him again to fetch her own wand from her handbag. Words appeared on the board at once when she tapped her wand on the blackboard: _Defense Against the Dark Arts—A Return to Basic Principles_.

“I am aware that this subject has always been a bit difficult for all of you to follow,” she began in the same girlish voice, still with the obnoxious smile on her face. “Especially with the constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry approved curriculum. And I know that this is not your fault, children. But I’m afraid this means your knowledge and competence are far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWLs this year. That is why I am happy to announce that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please.”

She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by a three-numbered list that detailed the course’s aims. Draco didn’t bother reading it though, because his mind was whirring fast as it came to one conclusion. Umbridge, and by extension the Ministry, weren’t allowing them to learn how to _actually_ do defensive magic. He vaguely acknowledged Theo pushing his parchment toward him, having taken down Draco’s notes for him, and Draco quietly muttered his thanks to his friend. When everyone had copied down the list, Umbridge told them to take out their copies of _Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert Slinkhard. Draco didn’t know about the others, but both he and Hermione had read the book during the summer, which had led to the discussion on how absolutely _rubbish_ the book was. Now that he knew what kind of teacher Umbridge was, he could understand why that book had been chosen.

“I should like you to turn to page five and read Chapter One, ‘Basics for Beginners’,” Umbridge said once everyone had taken out their books. “There will be no need to talk.”

Then she left the blackboard and went to sit on her chair behind the teacher’s desk. That was when Draco decided that he couldn’t take it anymore. While everyone else around him was flipping the book to page five as Umbridge had instructed them, Draco raised his hand. Immediately, Theo turned to him and looked at him questioningly, which only earned him a quick shake of the head as Draco kept his hand up and his eyes on that pink menace. Umbridge ignored him though, looking just as resolutely in another direction toward where the Ravenclaws were sitting. It convinced Draco that there was no way she hadn’t noticed him. It only took a couple of minutes until Theo wasn’t the only one who was watching Draco anymore. He could tell that behind him, Blaise and Daphne were looking at him and his raised hand too. Then as if they were all on a silent command, the Slytherins stopped reading and decided to watch Draco trying to get Umbridge’s attention. It was only after the Ravenclaws started to turn their attention to Draco as well that Umbridge relented.

“Yes, Mr Malfoy?” she said. “Is there anything you wanted to ask about the chapter?”

“No, I’d rather ask about the course aims, actually,” Draco said. “I notice that there’s nothing about _using_ defensive spells written there.”

“If you’d paid attention to what I’d written, this year we’re going to learn basic principles of Defense Against the Dark Arts, which is a Ministry-approved curriculum for your OWLs this year. Therefore, I don’t think that you’ll be required to _use_ a defensive spell in my classroom.” Umbridge’s mouth tugged into a sneer when she spoke again. “It seems, Mr Malfoy, you and a certain Miss Granger share the same worrying inability to understand simple explanations.”

“I doubt it, Professor,” Draco replied, using his most arrogant and condescending tone that he’d long suppressed ever since he’d met Hermione. It was the only way he could keep calm after the insult that pink thing had said about his girlfriend. “Miss Granger is the smartest person I know. In fact, a lot of people agree that she’s the most brilliant witch of her age. If she asked you about your course aims, then there’s definitely something wrong with them. Unlike _a lot_ of people, Hermione Granger actually knows what she’s talking about because she _is_ the most brilliant witch of her age.”

“Mr Malfoy—”

“You know what, _Professor,_ I’m sure Hermione could teach this class better than you ever could.”

The whole class, which had been relatively quiet anyway, fell silent at Draco’s insult. Umbridge’s nostrils were flaring as she glared furiously at Draco, her toad-like face turning red in anger. For the second time that day, Draco stared right back at her, although this time he made sure to put a bored look on his face. A few minutes passed before Umbridge finally spoke again, her girlish voice sounding like nails on chalkboard to Draco’s ears.

“Detention, Mr Malfoy,” she said sweetly. “Tomorrow evening at five o’clock in my office. You’ll be pleased to know that you’ll be serving your detention with Mr Potter. Unfortunately, like you, he’s been quite the troublemaker—”

“I’m sure it was for _the_ right reasons,” Draco drawled out monotonously.

“—and please tell Miss Granger that the next time she sends someone to continue _her_ efforts in disrupting _my_ class, I’ll have to give her detention too.”

Draco was about to stand up, his whole being shaking in anger, when both Theo and Blaise pushed him back down into his seat and hissed, “ _Draco, no!”_

But he wasn't listening. Umbridge had insulted Hermione. _His_ Hermione. His soulmate. The love of his life. Draco wouldn't allow that. He couldn't.

Shrugging his friends' hands off his shoulders, he stood up and said, "If you think you can give Hermione Granger an undeserved detention without consequences, then you're a bigger idiot than I originally thought."

"Another detention, Mr Malfoy! And if you keep this up, you'll be serving detention for the whole month."

"That's great. Did you tell that to Potter as well? Because I'm sure my cousins will be _thrilled_ to hear how _kind_ you were to us."

Umbridge stood up abruptly with her wand in hand, almost knocking over her chair, and for a split second Draco thought she was going to attack him. It was purely out of instinct when he raised his own wand cast the Protego charm. The whole class gasped at his display of magic, and some girls even squeaked, thinking that a duel was about to break out. But Draco was the only who had raised his wand. Umbridge kept her hands by her side, standing quite still despite the fact that Draco had just raised his wand at her. It was at that moment Draco realised he'd fallen right into her trap, and the slight smirk on Umbridge's face only confirmed it. As he dismissed the charm, Draco watched rigidly how Umbridge lifted a piece of parchment from her table. She then made her way slowly toward Draco, like a predator approaching her prey. Her smirk widened when she was standing right in front of him and then gave the parchment to him.

"Give this Professor Snape," she said quietly. "And I shall see you in detention every evening this week at five o'clock, Mr Malfoy. Starting tomorrow."

There were a lot of things Draco wanted to do to that horrible woman. Hexing her came on top of that list. But Draco knew he'd lost already, playing her game like an idiot. He couldn't afford that again. Not when he had a duty to unite his schoolmates and protect them from Umbridge. So, swallowing the rage he felt brewing in him, Draco gave the woman a curt nod and left the classroom. He had no doubt that Snape would tell his father about what had happened.

And Draco had a feeling Lucius wouldn’t be happy about it.

* * *

"Hermione's still not talking to you?" Harry asked Malfoy once they left Umbridge's office with their hands still stinging from her sadistic quills. It was their last day of detention with Umbridge.

"Yes,” Malfoy spat out, scowling. “Honestly, she's pissed at me for _defending_ her? Unbelievable."

"Well, you did get detention because of it."

"You got detention, too! And yet I'm the _only one_ she's pissed at."

" _I_ got detention because I was talking about Voldemort. I have no doubt that she considered my getting detention was because I was being stupid as always. _You_ , on the other hand, got detention because you were playing the hero."

"Merlin, your best friend’s _so_ bloody infuriating," Malfoy groaned out, running a tired hand through his hair. He flinched when the movement rubbed his hair against his scarred hand.

In Draco’s familiar elegant hand-writing, Harry read 'I shall learn to respect my superiors' scratched into the skin on the back of Malfoy's hand. On the same place on Harry's hand, he had 'I must not tell lies' in his own hand-writing etched into his skin. After their multiple sessions, their hands were bleeding now, the scars never fully healing before they got torn open again every night. Harry had to give it to the blond; while Harry was struggling not to lose his temper from all the slights and remarks Umbridge made toward him and his family, Malfoy looked perfectly calm and collected. There wasn't even his usual cocky smirk on his face, which was devoid of emotion even after hours had passed and his own writing was etched deeper into his skin. His lack of emotion seemed to infuriate Umbridge, especially when Malfoy merely stared at her in a bored manner when she called him an ill-mannered, spoiled brat who relied too much on his Pureblood relations to fix his messes. At that moment, looking at Malfoy felt like looking at Sirius when he was leading a Sacred meeting. It reminded Harry rather forcefully of the fact that Malfoy and Sirius were related.

Harry supposed it was a horrible thing to say, but he _was_ grateful that Malfoy had gotten detention with him. At least they would be together in dealing with Umbridge instead of alone. Unlike Malfoy, Harry wasn’t sure he could keep his temper if Malfoy wasn’t there. Umbridge did and said everything she could to bait them both, and many times Harry would have fallen into her trap if it weren’t for Malfoy. It was why Harry could understand why Hermione was so upset with Malfoy for getting detention. The blond liked to rile people up, yes, but he very rarely got riled up in return. He was only ever easily baited whenever someone insulted people he cared about. In this case, Umbridge used Hermione. Harry didn’t know whether the woman knew how important Hermione was to Malfoy before he’d defended her, but he had no doubt that Umbridge knew now. And she would _definitely_ use that knowledge every time she wanted to get a rise out of Malfoy.

“You’re ever going to tell your Godparents about Umbridge’s detention?” Malfoy asked.

Harry snorted. “Haven’t you met them? Sirius alone would raise all hell if he ever found out. Same goes for your father, I reckon.”

“Unfortunately, you’re right,” Malfoy muttered. Nodding at their hands, he continued. “Anyway, how do you plan on hiding that? I don’t think it’s going to be easy to heal, and even when it finally does, I doubt the scar will ever go away. I _really_ don’t want Granger to be even more upset with me, even though this is all that Um _bitch_ ’s fault.”

Harry couldn’t help himself when he let out a chuckle at the nickname Malfoy gave Umbridge. “Yeah, well, I suppose we’ll just have to learn Glamour Charms. Or I could always ask Neville if he knows anything helpful. Surely there’s some kind of plant that can help us.”

Malfoy nodded in agreement. “You do that. And maybe I can try and check Snape’s office for anything.”

“Bloody hell, Malfoy; detention with Umbridge isn’t enough for you?” Harry asked, shocked.

“Snape’s not that bad, you know,” the blond said defensively. “I don’t think he’ll give me Umbridge’s level of punishment for breaking into his office.”

“Right. I forgot the fact that as his Godson, you’re his _favourite_ ,” Harry teased.

“As if you weren’t Auror Lupin’s favourite when he taught here,” Malfoy retorted with a small grin, which made Harry snort out a laugh. It didn’t take long before Malfoy was laughing too.

“Hey, Malfoy?” Harry said, once they’d stopped laughing. Talking about Remus reminded him of the idea Hermione had just suggested the other day to him.

“Hmm?” the blond hummed in reply.

“How are you doing with uniting the Pureblood students here?”

Harry had heard from the Weasleys, especially Ron, about how Malfoy had held a secret meeting for _all_ Pureblood students on the night before he’d served detention with Harry. Apparently because of Umbridge’s speech during the feast, Malfoy felt that it only made sense if all the Pureblood students from all Houses got along, what with the obvious threats the Ministry had toward the Sacred Twenty Eight. Ron told Harry that for the first meeting, the blond had divided everyone into groups of four, if possible everyone should be from different Houses, and told them to get acquainted _without_ hexing each other. Ron was lucky enough to get grouped with Daphne Greengrass, Padma Patil and Ernie Macmillan, because they were all rather alright. Although Ernie talked _a lot_ to the point that Ron felt like hexing the prick _._ In fact, all of the Weasley siblings were grouped with decent people. Both Harry and Ron suspected that Draco, true to his nature, had played favourites.

Malfoy turned around, checking their surroundings to make sure they were alone, before he answered Harry. “We’ve only had one meeting, so it’s far too soon to be able to tell whether it will work or not. I mean, us Slytherins have never shown any form of kindness toward students from other Houses, regardless of their blood status.”

“I imagine that hasn’t been easy,” Harry agreed. “I’m actually a little surprised no one broke into a duel. I wouldn’t put it past Ron or the Weasley twins to pick a fight with Rosier or Carrow.”

“I was surprised myself that it all went relatively well... But do you know what my biggest problem is right now? Theo and Blaise are _fighting,_ the bastards. How am I supposed to promote unity when I can’t even make my friends make up?”

“Oh yeah, I heard about that from Hermione. It’s been, what? A week since they properly talked?”

“Give or take. I no longer care, honestly,” Malfoy sighed. “As long as they’re civil to one another in front of everyone when we have our next meeting tomorrow night, they can fight for all I care.”

For a split second, Harry thought of Ron’s stories about his brother Charlie and his fiancée Nymphadora Tonks, and how they’d had a great fall-out sometime in their fifth year. But Harry quickly shrugged the thought away. He had more important things to think about.

“Why did you ask, by the way? You plan on coming?” Malfoy asked.

“ _I can?”_ Harry asked in return.

The blond shrugged. “Why not? You’re practically a Black, aren’t you? On top of being a Potter. The last living heir, in fact. Despite not being part of the Sacreds, the Potter family is one of the most respected Pureblood families in the _world._ Plus, you’re the Boy-Who-Lived. Maybe with you coming to the meeting, those idiots would finally listen to me. And I'm talking about _everyone_. A lot of us Slytherins respect you, you know.”

“Ah,” Harry managed awkwardly after a beat. He never did well with compliments, especially ones that came from someone like Malfoy. “Well, I guess I’ll tag along tomorrow with the Weasley siblings. And maybe we’ll bring Hermione too.”

Malfoy nodded. “Of course. Lest she hexes us all for being the only one left in the dark.”

Harry grinned at that as he continued. “Speaking of Hermione, has she told you about her plans to have _me_ teaching everyone DADA? Especially the fifth and seventh years, since we’re going to have our OWLs and NEWTs soon.”

“She’s not talking to me at the moment, remember?” Malfoy reminded Harry sourly. “But yeah, I know about that. Weasley told me about it. He’s _kindly_ acted as our messenger.”

Harry stared at Malfoy for a while, surprised, because _that_ was news to him. “Oh, _wow_. You know what, we’ll go back to that again once you tell me what you think about Hermione’s idea.”

Malfoy shrugged. “I think that’s great? Even as someone who only ranks fourth in our year, you’re extremely good at DADA. And Umbridge is not going to teach us anything useful, for our OWLS or for life in general. So we might as well as have you become our teacher.”

“But I’m _not_ a teacher! You said it yourself; I’m only fourth rank! I can’t—”

“Look, Potter; as much as it pains me to say this, you’re a very competent wizard for someone your age. Sure, Hermione is _the_ smartest witch of her age—hell, I got into detention for saying that to Umbridge’s face. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not aware how skilled you really are.”

“While it flatters me that you apparently think so highly of me, I still don’t think _I_ should be a teacher. Especially now. Not when half of this school still secretly believes I’ve lied about Voldemort coming back. Even after they saw the condition Cedric was when we got back.”

“ _That’s_ the thing though, isn’t it? You’ve dealt with a lot of Dark Arts stuff since you were practically a baby. You know it better than anyone else here, except maybe for the professors who were Order members.”

“A load of it was _luck_ though, or at least I had some help. I didn’t do all that on my own, Malfoy. You were there _with_ me for most of it, remember?”

"Whatever you say, Potter, I think my point still stands. Let’s stop pretending that you’re not good at Defense Against the Dark Arts, because you are.”

Harry let out an exasperated groan and pinched the bridge of his nose. If he’d ever doubted that Malfoy and Hermione were perfect for each other, this would be the proof of how wrong he was. Both of them were just _so annoying_ when they were adamant about something. For Merlin’s sake, they’d almost said the exact same thing just to emphasise their argument.

“ _Fine,”_ Harry gritted out, earning a triumphant smirk from Malfoy. Seeing that infuriating look on the git’s face, Harry quickly added, “But I also want you _and_ Hermione to help me teach. This is all your fault anyway.”

“ _Excuse me?_ Granger’s the one who came up with this!”

“Frankly, I really don’t care. I’ve long considered that anything either of you come up with, the other would support.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t kidding anyone. Harry could see how pleased he secretly was with what Harry had said.

“Alright, alright. We can talk about the details tomorrow after the Pureblood meeting. But first, you need to help me get back into Hermione’s good graces.”


End file.
